I saw a video not long ago that featured a submissive woman and her dominatrix. I was struck by the submissive’s simple way of being with her owner.
Just standing there she had a kind of presence, an elusive something, which fascinated me. Our shorthand for such a thing is “submissiveness,” which it was in her, but that’s often just a generic term, like calling a Rembrandt a “pretty drawing.” All of her was submissive, for sure, but there were qualities within that which I felt compelling and beautiful.
As she stood naked before her owner, delicate and lithe with small yearning breasts, she was quiet but not timid, speaking only when spoken to but answering her mistress’s questions readily. She seemed to anticipate what would be done to her yet was not assuming anything specific. She did not know when her next hours would require, yet she stood in brimming expectation of the adventure.
I think of the term “recessive gene,” the biological element that sits behind the dominant gene. Likewise, this submissive woman was recessive, standing to the side of her domme, slightly back, almost like her owner’s shadow. This slave seemed to exist between the world and her domme — sort of like those optical illusions where you look at a picture and another image lies within it if you look hard enough. Perhaps she feels this literally, her presence between the radical life her mistress draws her into and the world out there that judges her naked submission.
We all feel that.
Oddly, perhaps, the woman’s manner of presence brought to my mind the word “absorbent.”
She tacitly stood, receptive to all that would be done to her, whatever would be applied to her flesh. She would absorb it all, from floggers to semen, and more than take it on her, she’d receive it into her like a foam sponge. It all would seep in, would ooze into her flesh and mind, and would be transformed. In a kind of submissive alchemy, the thudding pain of the flogger converted into gratitude, the demeaning stripes of violent cum transformed into her own submissive and nurturing estrogen.
As she stands so receptive and absorbent, a quiet catalyst for changing her world, she is breathtaking.
It was a quality of presence. The woman did very little, but just was, standing submissively, not performing but just being — being submissive and recessive and absorbent.
She mesmerized me.
I wondered if I needed to find that quality of presence for myself, if this is who I need to be for Master McKenna. Maybe this is what he is training me to be.
This woman was authentic, just being herself. I know I must likewise be myself in my submission. I cannot be exactly like her. But what is my best version of the quality of submissive presence she had?
I am generally appreciated for my words, sometimes my wit and humor. But if I am standing silently, submissive and recessive and absorbent, how can these be expressed? I don’t know. My owners have said of me in various ways that I convey a sense of knowing fully what is being done to me, that I am aware of my own sacrifice in submitting to dominance. Perhaps that’s something. I don’t know.
As I am with Master McKenna this week, standing submissively before him, I will remember this woman, her beautiful, recessive being, and the quality of her submissive presence.