Twelve days between kisses

He actually said those words to me. Or, okay, typed them. But.

I know, it’s not that freaking long. I mean, I really know.  I do not intend to imply that it’s anywhere near the kind of misery that people who have to endure weeks and months apart endure. Hell I was there when W had to go stay with his ailing mother for months on end. But…

This feels different.

I know, I know, I said something similar back then, when W and I struggled to stay connected through the long weeks of his absence. And, truth is, this is not the first time V and I have been separated for this length of time. It happened in the first 6 weeks that I knew him, as a matter of fact. But…

This feels different.

W and I had a very deep, very intimate D/s relationship. How I felt towards him — my s to his D — was just a part of who we were. It was the core of our relationship; the heart. But, for all that it was always there in the background, and definitely part of our sexual interactions at all times, he chose not to make rules for me or to direct my behavior as part of our D/s. He didn’t want control over my day-to-day activities. He wanted control over my sex life, and that he had, but my real life? Not so much. So when he went away for periods at a time, although I dearly missed him, and desperately missed the D/s interactions we had when we were together, it didn’t affect my every day the way that Viper’s absence does.

D/s is both the core of V’s and my relationship and the framework for it. My days are structured by the interactions we have, from the time that I wake up until I go to sleep. I have things I have to do every day for him, we have routines of communication and interactions, and I have rules about how I am to do other things. We have rituals, like texting as soon as we wake up and just before sleep, my devotion, our morning and afternoon phone calls, and the little things I need to ask permission for throughout my day. I go over my day or evening plans with him, and sometimes he makes changes, giving me other or additional tasks, or organizing my day or evening in the way he wants it. I let him know when I’ve completed tasks and am moving on to something else, and ask his permission if I don’t want to finish something on my list. He keeps me focused, both on my tasks and on him. I feel his presence all throughout my day.

It’s no wonder I feel a little lost while he’s gone.

I quite literally had a moment yesterday, as I was getting ready to leave work, when I had to stop and remember exactly what it was I was supposed to be doing. For one moment, as I looked at the computer screen and didn’t see his directive there in our IM, that I was at a complete loss, my mind a blank. I quickly recovered, of course, but that moment felt somehow…momentous. It spoke of a level of integration of our D/s relationship into my life that I had not acknowledged to myself yet.

It’s not that I am not capable of making plans and structuring my days/nights on my own. I am quite capable. But looking to him, listening to him and following his directives, has become so ingrained in my daily life that without them…I feel adrift. I have all of the things I normally do, personal and household tasks, time I spend with Ad, things I do for entertainment, places I go, habits and routines, but… There’s a vital part missing. There have been many times over the past four days (it’s only been four!) that I have reached to text or message him to let him know what I’m doing or to ask permission for this or that, and had to put the phone down with a sigh when I remembered.

He calls this structure that he has imposed upon me keeping or putting me in my “box.” We both love it, this box. I want to be in this box all the time, even when I act out like I don’t. Even when I push back or resist, or need his reinforcement of the walls of my box.

Recently, he has been reinforcing the box a lot. He’s been drawing it tighter around me, demanding more focus, more attention, more submission. I never thought I would be someone that wanted someone else to govern me in quite this way. I thrived in the kind of sexual domination that W exerted over me, and I loved feeling safe in my role as his submissive, knowing I had given myself over to someone that would always, always do right by me, but I think, as I look back – even in some of my earlier writings – that I longed for more.

That I needed more.

Viper has recognized that need in me all along. He has pointed it out many times; noted how it has calmed me, noted how this structure and his reinforcing of it quiets the squirrels in my head, although, until recently, he hasn’t always been that proactive about it. It is only recently that he has decided to use the tenets of our relationship as a tool in modifying and reshaping my behavior, as well.

I alluded to this change in this post, when I talked about how different things are now than they were a year ago. Yes, there are other factors at play, changes in environment and other interpersonal interactions that have contributed to it, but the most important factor, IMO, is how V has insisted on me behaving in a certain way, no matter the situation. He has made it clear that he expects better behavior of me. He has made clear the standard he expects me to uphold, and has consistently called me on it when my behavior that does not meet that standard. And more than that – he has made it clear that *my* behavior is not contingent upon anyone else’s. What he expects of me may be very different than what he expects or accepts from anyone else, but what he expects or accepts from others is immaterial – he expects this from me because I am his, I am owned, I am his kitty. And as such he will dictate what he expects of me, and I will obey.

It’s not that easy, of course. In fact it’s not easy at all. It takes effort, and work, and making the decision every time that when I want to fight, to explode, to spew all over, that I won’t. That I will submit to his will, to be the kitty he wants me to be, that he expects me to be. I’m far from there, to be honest. But I’m getting closer all the time. And every single time that I do, that I accept what he wants – that I don’t kick and claw and fight – and things work out, and things get better, I trust him more. I believe in him – in us – more.

This is no small thing. I have come to realize that although I trust readily in some ways, when it comes to someone else knowing what’s best for me…not so much. I’ve relied on myself for a very long time – and still do. But he is teaching me to rely on him, as well.

So yeah, these twelve days are going to be difficult. But he didn’t leave me high and dry. He didn’t leave his kitty totally out of her box. He gave me a set of instructions, and – damn it – even made me have to work for my orgasms while he’s gone. (There was a moment when I thought, “yay! free orgasms anytime I want!” Ha. Silly kitty.) But would I want anything else?

(Somehow this feels to me like it fits the Wicked Wednesday prompt for “tradition.” I had thought to write a completely different post for the prompt, but this is what came out. Maybe it’s about building traditions? I dunno. But here it is.)


  1. Molly

    I can’t imagine 12 days away from Michael. I hope they pass quickly for you and V

    As for the box, I like mine too and yet I also find myself fighting it and sometimes I don’t even really know why. It is something I really need to think about


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