Musings in the Dark: The Rebirth of Slick (II)


The Rebirth of Slick (II)

Cont’d from part I

This didn’t occur to me until after my most recent session.  I can understand why it took so long; it’s been y  e  a  r  s since I’ve been able to manifest anything above lukewarm.  I thought that I’d never regain the ability to do what a woman’s body should; that in spite of the men I’ve met and hope to meet, none of them would come close to moving the needle.

Boy, was I utterly and completely wrong.

Trey’s grasp of English is just barely enough to do his job; he understands the words he needs to, but there aren’t many, and nothing more elaborate than that.  Complex phrases are lost on him and don’t even try using sentences.  Most of the massage therapists have a limited command of the English language.  They’re not required to know it to service customers.  At any rate, Trey knows what “very good,” “pain,” “softer,” and “harder” mean.

My command of Mandarin is just as strong as Trey’s command of English.  So our main method of communication is eye contact.  I read somewhere a very, very long time ago the following statement: “The secret of love is in the eyes.”  Now while love ain’t got nothin’ to do with what Trey does to me, the fact that he is able to do what he does based on what he sees in my eyes has everything to do with it.  I often wonder how I look when he hits a spot on the sole of my foot, or when he grabs my ankle a certain way, or even when he rubs the insides of my toes (which is damn near orgasmic, let me tell you that!).  And then there’s the times when I feel like he’s worked on a particular area so much that there’s no way it can possibly still be sore, he simply keeps manipulating said spot, applying more and more pressure until my breath catches and I feel it.

He knows it will hurt before I do.  Don’t ask me how I know this; I just do.

When we manage to make eye contact, he always has a little half-smile on his face, like he knows my secret and it aligns with his own.  He’ll ask, “Pain?” and I’ll say “Yes…yīdiǎn diǎn,” which means “a little.”  Then he’ll ask, “Softer?” and I’ll say, “No, it’s all right.” Like he knew that’s what I’d say anyway.

If you strip the D/s lifestyle down to its essence, it is two people bound together in a very specific type of relationship: one where power to control is given from one individual (the sub) to another (the dom).  It is a lifestyle where boundaries are explicitly laid out and there are established, well-defined rules.  Safe words are employed when the boundaries are breached, at which point the experience stops immediately and both partners discuss what happened.  It is important to understand that the true power in a D/s relationship lies with the sub, not the dom.  It is the sub that determines how far things should go, and a responsible dom understands how far to take them.

My pain thresholds vary.  After nearly a year of regular massages, my pain tolerance has increased.  What I recently became aware of is just how it makes me feel when Trey finds a sore place somewhere and applies just enough pressure to see in my expression what he needs to see until he has to ask, “Pain?”  Then, based on my response, he’ll either stop or ease up.  Over the months, I have instructed him to ease up less and less frequently, and as a result, my massages have become more and more intense.

I became convinced that Trey liked seeing me wince, liked hearing my breath hitch, liked seeing my hands curl into fists, liked seeing me scrunch up my face, and liked hearing me cuss in a low voice whenever he did something that caused me pain.  What I knew he also liked was knowing that I could take it and handle more.  In this, he is very much a sadist and I have learned that I’m very much a masochist (at least while I’m on his massage table).

And I enjoy every second we spend together.  I’m supremely confident that he enjoys it too.  It is a very unique connection, one that I’m clearly here for in spite of the fact that we can’t have a simple verbal conversation.  I can’t say with any certainty if Trey has a similar connection with any of his other clients.  Our dynamic is all visual and tactile, and it’s sexy as hell to allow such a talented man be the boss of me, even for three hours.  Touch is an extremely powerful sense for me; putting my hands or having hands laid on me is exceptionally erotic, so you can imagine how nice and warm the cookie jar is when Trey’s got his magnificent hands all over my naked body.

Oh yeah, about that

1 comment:

  1. That settles it. I'm setting up a Self Care Fund for massages once I'm employed again (which will be soon, YAY!).


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