Trance of Adoration

I hope that my longing for Alexandra doesn’t leave me like a starving man who craves a feast he cannot actually eat.

My favorite of Suzanne Ballivet’s illustrations of scenes from Venus in Furs.

My brief experiment with the closet has given me either an insight or fooled the part of me given to over refinement.

The extended separation from Alexandra seems to focus my mind on adoration rather than submission. Not that those feelings aren’t tightly intertwined.

Sometimes I find myself overcome with warm desire and connection to her within D/s. Often I go lie down for a few minutes. Usually the only image that accompanies this mild trance is of kneeling. Ok, you know me: sometimes I see myself kissing her boots. We bond so cleanly and equally in our respective roles in that act it feels like a sacrament.

There are no “scenes.” It is lightly erotic and contemplative. I guess the distinction I’m trying to tease out of in removing the word submission is the mood is pure humility within romantic love.

Another reason for setting aside the submissive aspect of this emotional space is there’s no sense of need to be dominated. Just that she accept my worship.

To confess a desire to worship another probably seems neurotic even to some people who are comfortable with sadomasochistic play. It sounds neurotic. When I first began to understand it in myself I had to wonder if I wanted to tumble into an emotional abyss.