I bear the trademark raised welts of the trade - bruised and purplish red, stinging mildly when pressure is applied to them with less than a gentle touch. This is the litmus test of a good weekend these days; permanent marks in the mirror means I can remember his hands on my flesh a little bit longer.

We did what we do best this past weekend - ate exquisite food, talked up a storm, saw a movie, made love. We spent as much time together as possible, rarely a moment went by without some sort of physical intimacy. We fucked, had sex AND made love (sometimes all at once). Every weekend, it seems, brings us closer and closer together. A new facet gets revealed, something hidden comes to light, we know and understand each other just that much more.

My submission goes hand in hand with trust. I must trust to submit, it's an implicit fact of my biology. I place my body and soul in his hands, literally, and I trust that he won't hurt either of them. I understand to some people our lifestyle is "strange," but for us it is a necessity. We work better with the understanding that he's my protector. I can go out and work, I can protect and provide for myself and my daughter, but it's him that I depend on. He takes my submission as the ultimate gift and gives it back to me in the form of discipline, dominance and much needed release. It's our circle of life.

Big changes may be coming soon, but I'm confident in our shared ability to see this through. I've opened up to him more than I've ever opened up to anyone before, because I'm certain that nothing I ever say will be used against me. I can tell him anything and we can talk about it. I don't know who we were before, when we lived together, but who we are now (as a couple and as individuals) never fails to amaze me. I love him. More every day, it seems.

This entry was posted by Mellie, on Sunday, July 10, 2005.