some nothing

I was driving recently past a fast food chain and a memory hit me - something I hadn't thought about almost since it happened three years ago. It was the night Master and I were attending our first BDSM party as a pair. I had limited "scene" experience, and it felt like an honour to accompany him as his own for the first time - so naturally I was nervous. I wanted to be seen with him, and to make him proud. But as we were getting ready to leave, something happened... a conflict with someone important to him. He spoke to me gently and suggested I go alone, and he would join me at the party later... after he sorted the issue out.

I didn't want to go alone. I had looked forward to arriving with him... as his. To be without him felt shameful, and lonely. I wanted to wait for him... but he said no.

I am ashamed to say it, but on that night out, I did not have faith in my Master's word. Driving to the party, I was convinced he would not come at all. I thought I would wait for him there all night, looking at my watch, trying to excuse him to the other guests, to convince them that, no, I hadn't really been abandoned. Until finally I would leave, still alone. Thinking this, I pulled over at the fast food place and sat in the car park for a long time, trying not to cry. Because, in my mind, what this meant was clear: I was not important. He did not care about me. I meant nothing. And I felt sure I would be forgotten that night.

But I wasn’t forgotten. He did turn up at the party, to my relief and surprise.

Now, three years later, I still belong to him. Despite my failings, my weakness, my uncertainty. Despite what can only be described as my crisis. On this one issue, I still find it difficult to have faith in my Master’s word: I am something to him.

Why is it so hard for me to accept that I could matter? Being nothing hurts, but it feels real, and easy to slip into. Being something, that feels so warm… and safe… and frightening. It feels vulnerable, which is somehow worse than pain. The more I mean anything to him, the more I need him, until I don’t know where I am in this anymore. My sense of place becomes soft, until I need his cruelty, desperately, to bring me back. His derision makes the world solid again.

Too much care and I can’t stand it. Too much malice and I can’t stand myself. Can I find a space in the middle, where I can be both his something and his nothing?

I can’t tell what is possible anymore, and I’m not sure I even want to think anymore. My head can’t cope with the questions it’s trying to ask. It tries, and then…… Crisis. Escape.

But escape is not permissible. Master will not allow it. He will keep me for as long as he desires. And just that, helps me to feel safe again. I don’t need the answers, and I don’t need to cope with this alone. I can let go – I have no choice. The answer will be found, or it won’t – all I have to do is obey him, letting my own will go. Easy to do, when I don’t know where it lies anyway.

And here, in his firm grip, without choice, is where I find that balance: I am important enough that he will keep me; and I am insignificant enough that he will use force if he must. This feels peaceful. This feels like love.