Monday, March 1, 2010

Journey of Submission Part V

Submitted by Nicolae Parx

SPIRIT
Learning
He sat on the floor at her feet and simply listened to her talk so freely and easily about something that seemed so overpowering to him that he wanted to jump up and demand what was in his heart. The question burdening his soul was as simple as it was bottomless.

"Why hasn't anyone done this to me yet?"

The words in his heart could not yet find expression on his lips so he sat silently and pressed his torso against her legs is if that closeness would somehow bring answers to the raging uncertainty inside him. She talked simply and plainly about the most incredible journey he had ever experienced and the incongruity of her calm and instructive demeanor juxtaposed against his uncomprehending and childlike wonder almost frightened him more than he was afraid of his own body's passion.
She spoke clearly.
"There is even an ancient Chinese fashion called 'nip and nurture', which suggests an almost combative concept, to withhold your own orgasm, and promote your partner's, so you can vampire the energy for your own power and longevity."
It was the word 'vampire' that captured Nicolae's full attention and his head, already oddly invigorated as well as exhausted from his recent experience, caught the word and held it tightly in his brain. She had vampired him, he suddenly realized. She had sucked the energy out of him that rent his body with an explosion of immense proportions. Oddly, he wasn't tired. In fact, he felt like running around the block.
And she had done it without even touching him. That was the most incomprehensible part to him and it illuminated yet another unknown facet of her power that kept him both in awe and sitting at her feet, nestled against her legs. Like a sponge, Nicolae wanted what she could give him and teach him. For that matter, he seemed to be the student that Roxana longed for; the boy with whom she could share some of the mysteries that had been revealed for her. To be effective, education must be reciprocal and both Roxana and Nicolae were housed within a unique symbiosis of want and need.
She continued expounding a bit more philosophically.
"Extended orgasmic response appears to induce a highly pleasurable state of heightened mental activity. This sexual high is similar to a deep meditative state, with electrical brain activity moving in more synchronous patterns and shifted toward alpha and theta waves, with greater electrical activity in the right side of the brain. Deep relaxation and meditation produce similar brain-wave shifts and patterns. Subjectively, such states induce feelings of peacefulness and harmony and an altered sense of time. The oceanic mental state that extended orgasmic response induces appears to be similar to states described by religious believers who have had visions of God or universal oneness. This common meditative transformation may explain the associations frequently addressed in world literature between sexuality and spirituality."
Nicolae believed that whatever had just happened to him certainly fit that description and it astounded him that she could describe it in such physiological and spiritual terms at the same time. What he had just been through was certainly just as spiritual as it was sexual. The experience was nothing like anything he had ever survived before, and the newness of it was as astonishing to him as the experience itself.
Why hadn't anyone done this to him before? The words rang through his mind as his ears listened and his brain tried to absorb her words.
"And you know something?" she asked without expecting an answer. "To me, this is not so much a sexual experience, as it is a meditative one. My awareness is on physical sensation and energy flow, my mind is occupied with prayer and visualization of physical or spiritual goals."
Nicolae suddenly felt a cold wave wash over him as he tried to understand her comment. Wasn't she concentrating on him throughout what had to be one of the most profound phenomena that had ever invaded his body and mind? If anything was flowing, he snorted snidely but silently, it was his own passion. Wasn't this about him?
After all, Nicolae figured, truly, for a man to choose to serve his Lady is a very classical romantic gesture. When you think of men who choose to serve, you think of white knights on chargers, don't you? And they're all vowing, "To thee my Lady I pledge my troth, and I shall serve thee all my days." Isn't that how it worked? Wasn't he her knight, her protector, and her servant all wrapped up as one on that same lofty plane?
Reaching down to stroke his hair, Roxana felt his body's sudden tensing against her legs. "You don't understand yet," she affirmed his confusion and patted his hair. "But you will. Give it time, my sweet boy, and you will understand."
"Well," he started with trepidation, "I sort of saw myself as your Knight."
With his head buried in her legs, he couldn't see her smile but he felt her calm reassurance and snuggled in more closely.
Roxana's response was delivered with a grin.
"So if submissive men like you are noble knights on white chargers, pledging their power in support of their Ladies and children, I want you to keep in mind those same knights regularly beat the crap out of each other."
She couldn't help herself and began laughing softly. As her amusement increased, so did the vibration in her calves and soon Nicolae could do little but chuckle along with her. Learning about what Roxana called 'submission' was one challenge after another, but Nicolae remembered her initial rule delivered so long ago during their online chats.
"Have fun," she admonished him. "I demand that you have fun because I know that I will."

"The mystics would call it the yin and the yang," she continued instructively. "You can't have one without the other - but more importantly, you can't appreciate one without the other. That's the lesson of the Tao, as far as I'm concerned," Roxana concluded.
Nicolae thought quietly for a while before allowing the question she knew was buried yet burning inside him to rise to his lips.
"One what?" he almost exploded with curiosity. "You can't have one WHAT? You can't appreciate one WHAT?"
Nicolae would have worn his frustration on his sleeve if he had been wearing a shirt, but Roxana kept him unclothed while they were together. It was just her way and he didn't mind it at all. Feeling her skin against his own when she touched him was one of his joys.
She reached down and cuddled his head as she answered him softly. "Like light and darkness, the opposites are truly one, and they require each other to be understand each or both." Silent for a moment, Roxana stretched her arms down and held his shoulders in her strength as if to pour her power into him as a sort of pre-defense for what she was about to say.
"Unless we know pain and understand it, we cannot fully know pleasure."

His ears that were nestled snugly and comfortably against her calves, heard her words but their impact hadn't yet found target. Knowing Nicolae so well and recognizing that he had to arrive at his own perceptions without being forced there, Roxana sat silently and held him securely against her. His warm skin invigorated her and she could feel the power that was building in his brain. It would burst out of its own accord and she was willing to give him that time.
"Is that what you did to me?" he asked simply. And Roxana realized that he was finally beginning to understand.
"I'd rather show you," Roxana whispered softly while she gripped him more tightly. "We'll look into that … soon. Right now, I want you to get some rest."
Lifting his suddenly exhausted shoulders, Roxana forced him upright and led him toward the bedroom wing. Her arm, wrapped tightly around his thin waist, ushered him past the bedroom that had been his since his arrival and stopped him at the end of the hall.
"You'll sleep here tonight," she spoke deliberately.

When Nicolae lifted his face from its comfortable spot on her shoulder, he saw the door to what must have been her suite. Until now, it had been merely a door; a closed portal that led deeper into his mind's mystery. It had suddenly taken on a brand new meaning and held immeasurable possibility.
Yin and Yang
The down pillow under his head provided support that Nicolae hadn't realized he needed until he gave his body to the mattress's welcome buttress against his skin. Tired through his bones, Nicolae fell asleep almost instantly into a blissful repose that only the deserving and the exhausted are afforded. He had no idea how long he slept.
What woke him in the midst of total darkness wasn't the expected glint of warm sunshine rising over the ocean and peeking through a wispy white curtain. Instead, Nicolae was startled into awareness by the oddly distant feeling of something touching his chest. Unsure of its origin, he fought with his foggy mind to define the feeling.
Through the core of that fog, he heard a voice whispering in his ear.
"Yin and yang," he heard soothingly as the pressure on his chest increased slightly. "Pleasure and pain are the same," his ear drank the melodious tone. "One and the same," the voice continued as the pressure on his chest defined itself as a sharpness morphing to soft comfort.
Naked and warm under a down comforter, Nicolae struggled to focus on the voice, then on the feeling. His mind, still clouded by sleep, darted from one to the other and could not settle its attention on either. The soft voice in his ear momentarily took over his senses then his entire concentration swung to the growing intensity inflicted on his upper body by insistent fingers. As soon the soothing words penetrated his senses, twinges of pain worked their way from his chest into his growing consciousness.

He had no idea how long he laid there, shifting his attention from one sense to another, from hearing to feeling, or from comfort to aching soreness. Within indiscernible minutes or hours, Nicolae grew weary of differentiating the polar opposites that invaded his sleep. Rather than try to categorize the conflicting feelings, he closed his eyes and ordered his body simply to accept them and allow the emotions each to have its own time.
The voice was as encouraging as it was stern.
"Yin and yang," it repeated. "Feel all of it, feel it in your soul." Suddenly there was no voice as increasing levels of sharp pain danced across his skin. When he felt he would cry out in agony from its intensity, the voice began again.
"Don't struggle," it reassured him. "Breathe into me," it persuaded as the force exerted itself again across his aching nipples and chest. One after another, the voice interspersed itself with the pain and soon the two became a single energy that surrounded him like the down comforter warmed him like a loving cocoon against the evening's chill.
The complexity of the feelings drained his mind of its ability to sort out his surroundings. Nicolae found himself fighting to maintain any semblance of controlling his comprehension of what was going on around him and to him and he succumbed to the voice's passionate urging that he merely allow himself to feel and not think. The problem was that he didn't know how to do that.
The now-searing distress he felt when the fingers touched
him burned like fire on his skin and when he reached the apex of agony, the voice, as if it could read his mind as well as his tolerance level, joined the dance to create an eerie pas de deux that any stage would have been proud to produce. Shifting his concentration repeatedly, Nicolae's body began its own dance of pure animal reaction to the overwhelming sensations that he was experiencing.
His hips began to sway slightly in rhythm to the unyielding touch. As he drew his focus to that rhythm, the voice penetrated his ear and shook his concentration. Again and again, the voice and touch overtook each other and Nicolae's legs trembled as his emotional tension rose. Suddenly and surreptitiously, the insistent fingers increased their center of attention and incorporated more of his body in their merciless dance.
As suddenly as he realized the touch reach for his stomach, the voice generated new waves in his ear.
"Take what is given," he heard between his own gasps of cool night air. "Take all of it," the voice insisted and added, "Feel! Feel and don't think!"
Suddenly desperate to obey the command that seemed so simple and inviting, Nicolae tensed every muscle in his body in order to comply. Figuring that he could override his body's reaction by asserting physical strength, he exhorted his body to grow rigid and by doing so, end the shuddering and shaking that seemed to threaten his need to control his reactions, even though he was unable to decipher why that control seemed so important right now.
Complete control had always been a part of his life; it had become his defense against the turmoil life had thrown at him for three decades. He controlled his anger successfully when others would have launched an all-out assault, especially where his family was concerned, and shifted his attention to the greater good that he could find in the world around him. Of course, that anger would be expressed in other places and in other ways, but Nicolae was proud of his restraint and ability to inflict his anger on things that couldn't care about his explosions of rage.
He drove motorcycles fast and big trucks through the mountains. It satisfied his needs and prevented him from unduly haranguing his friends who were, unlike his family, the life support system on which he relied for sanity and focus. With a positive attitude to all the challenges that would have impeded lesser men, Nicolae saw each day as a contest and set out to win.
It was a decision that had saved his life on many occasions.
Yet his carefully honed sense of control was slipping from his fingers as he lay silently and struggled to allow what the voice demanded. "Take it all," it insisted. The dancer's body, now rigid with control, fought the voice's edict.
Conquering the day always implied winning and Nicolae wrestled with the idea of 'taking' rather than 'triumphing.' The incessantly intense sensations that danced across an increasing perimeter of his legs, arms and shoulders were juxtaposed by that welcome voice of assurance and calm. Their impact grew and grew until the sensation melded into the voice and the voice became the pain. Muscle after muscle tensed until every inch of Nicolae was involved fully in this extraordinary and new experience.
His mind threatened to explode and that loss of control terrified him.
The only thing separating Nicolae from dipping into the insanity he feared more than anything else was the unstoppable voice and steadfast touch that triggered him into what was now a full-body spasm of such intense proportions that his emotions were ragged. For the first time he could recall, he was not in control of his muscles. Had he tried, he could not have stood up or even sat.
Nicolae was as petrified as he was inexplicably calm.
"Let it go," the voice drilled into his brain. "Take it all," it insisted.
The contradiction seemed so clear yet unfathomable. Nicolae felt the soreness in his strained muscles threaten him almost as much as did his mind's inability to let go of his comforting self control. He didn't know how to let it go and take it all. There was nothing in his training or selfimposed upbringing that gave him the tools he needed to cope with this dichotomy of direction. Feeling the horrible anguish of being split apart by his own wanting and the voice's insisting demands, Nicolae's eyes dripped tears of exhaustion and loss.

He couldn't go on. There was no more strength inside him to struggle and no wisdom to tell him how to 'let it go' and 'take it all.' The sense of failure surrounded him and sucked him into its dismal grip.
The merciless fingers didn't care about his impending implosion; rather, they increased their target and now began separating his fingers as if to pull each one deliberately from his hand. They sought his neck and shoulders, his chest and stomach, his rock-solid legs and calves and moved steadfastly toward his ankles. A mass of tension and desperation, Nicolae battled with himself to hang on just a moment longer. There was no future, no light at the end of any tunnel and no goal in sight. All that confronted him was this single moment in time and his raw determination to hold on to his sanity for the instant.
It was at that sacred and scary moment that the fingers aimed for his feet.
Sharpness touched his toes and pitilessly and ruthlessly took their target. Unable to offer any defense, Nicolae felt the cold-blooded assault and knew instantaneously that no resistance would be offered. Spent and defeated, he could merely part his lips and offer the shrieks of agony that tore at his body and spirit. Howling uncontrollably, Nicolae screamed his passion from a raw throat as huge spasms shook his body and threatened to tear his soul apart.
His barrage was as incessant as it was unrefined or practiced. Over and over, he shrieked his agony into the cool night air and felt nothing but waves of exploding sensation propel from muscles that cried out from their stress. Unwilling and unable to find a shred of control within him, Nicolae's growls and shrieks filled the room with the sounds of pure crazed passion. His eyes exploded in tears as his chest ignited in gut-wrenching sobs.
He had never felt that level of exhaustion before. Yet his body would not compromise and continued in wave after wave of shuddering and shaking that was released from so deep inside him that Nicolae could not even name its source. Only incomprehensible grunts and intense shrieks emerged from his now hoarse throat yet Nicolae lacked the power to make them stop.
For this moment, he had no control.
After what seemed like an eternity of insanity, Nicolae felt this thoughts creep slowly back toward reality, although what comprised his reality was no longer clearly defined. Instead of any sense of confidence or assuredness, he felt emptiness fill the void that made up all he could feel. Ripped, torn and shredded, Nicolae fought to find himself, but the depth of barrenness inside his heart overpowered that effort.
He felt totally empty and scared to death.
"Hold onto me," the voice demanded anew.

With the final measure of strength he could manage, he rolled toward her and allowed Roxana to take his body - and his soul - in her arms. Nestling his head into her shoulder, he felt her pull the comforter over him and draw him even closer to her skin. The boundary between them disappeared for that time as Nicolae felt her powerful spirit surround his emptiness and hold it carefully while it healed.
Roxana's fingers caressed his wavy blond hair and she whispered into his ear.
"Your power," she began, "is mine. It's the gift you gave and the gift I took."
Her words washed over his ear and barely entered his brain. Too weary to concentrate, Nicolae lay immobile in her arms.
"Mine," she whispered offhandedly.

And he knew, for the first time in his life, that he had given himself to another person. And it felt very good.

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