#the falibility of dominance

Dominance can be exhausting. Don’t mistake that for a complaint.

It’s exhausting in the same way that a marathon can exhaust. It’s satisfaction, the dull ache of muscles that you know have been properly used. It’s exhausting in the same way that playing a piece of music note perfect, with nary a mistake, can be exhausting. When it’s over there’s a relief, but also an incredible sense of accomplishment. 

It’s exhausting in the way writing a novel can be exhausting. When it’s over, you may feel a rush of freedom, but there’s also a huge gulf that’s been voided, a part of yourself that’s been taken away with that final page. That’s why writers write a second novel, and a third. The novel becomes a support that they can’t live without, because they’d feel like a eunuch without them. 

I’m not talking about a come down from ‘Dom Space’, but more that, occasionally, the Dominant will need a moment to themselves, or to be able to switch off and engage on a level that isn’t overtly D/s. As natural as it can be to some, being a Dominant is still a conscious effort, however effortless it might seem. So they might need to recuperate, regroup, recharge. Perhaps, when they’re panting and smiling and idly playing with your hair, give them a moment, a minute, an hour. 

The ferocity and power they come back with will be worth the slight denial, I assure you.