Liberating Degradation

(I’m in too much shoulder pain to spend more than a few minutes at the computer. Tomorrow may see me in the ER begging for percocets. NB: I’ve been too aware of the limitations of the following to post it but would rather post something than nothing.)

Much of my inner life is self-reflection: thinking about why I think and behave I do. Depending on your temperament I’m a narcissist or fulfilling my potential by following Socrates’ proscription to know myself. It may not make me less false to other men; I like to think it diminishes the falsity I present to myself.

An odd preamble to writing about degradation and humiliation.

My mind was drifting back to the last time Alexandra had me lick mud from her heels. Much of my mind simply shut down. My intelligence deserted me. I struggled like an idiot child to obey and please her.

Often I’ve wished my inner dialogue would cease.

To continue to be a bit fancy about it there are times Alexandra has stripped me of what has been called the burden of selfhood.

Being bound by a posture bar, licking up the residue of grapes she has crushed with her heels is humiliating. It is also liberating.

Not when it is happening. Later as we sit on the couch, the next morning I feel a uncannily relaxed ecstasy.

I always love her. Sometimes she enables me to worship her. Very different but parallel experiences.