It’s like standing in a stadium, all the seats empty and someone whispering over the loudspeaker – I can almost make out the word, but not quite. I have to really concentrate. Force myself out of my current thoughts and sensations.
The storm blowing through is one of those that the rain isn’t constant, the wind is gusty but not obnoxious and the smells of the storm are almost as “loud” as the thunder and rumbling from the storm itself. It’s a wonderful summery storm and it’s otherwise pitch black outside. Every now and then the lightning explodes across the sky, lighting everything up.
From my office, I have my french doors mostly closed to the rest of the house, but we have opened windows and doors everywhere we can to let the storm have its way with the house. My doors have these light, wispy curtains on them, you can see through them in just the right light.
I’m working, but we have lights out so we can enjoy the storm. I kick back and look up just as a flash blows through the house and I see you out the other room, sideways, but slouched a bit in that leather chair. Something about that posture…
“Dom-space” has always been a fascinating thing to me. Everyone always focuses on sub-space, that floaty, other-worldly feeling that you can get to if the stars align, if you jump around just so on your left foot and if you chase it down and allow it in.
When you settle in for impact play, it’s extremely challenging to be able to give responses, give control, let the impacts roar through you. Each time there is a smack or the ends of the flogger make contact, or the crop bites into you, there is an instant connection between you and the Dominant partner.