Whilst ironing I am suddenly assailed by a memory that causes me to gasp and then to grin with pleasure and delight at its interjection into my mundane life. The images and feelings triggered by the fresh smell of the cotton shirt I am ironing.

Our first overnight together was a long time in the planning and so looked forward to.  We arranged to meet at the hotel, and you arrived tired and slightly frazzled after a working day and a long drive.  I was relaxed, early for once, and calmly waiting for you, or so I thought but your entry into the room still made me catch my breath and my hand shook a little on the mouse that I was browsing the internet with. You went over to the chair in the corner after taking off your jacket and tie. I sat opposite on the edge of the bed made with 1000 thread Egyptian cotton linen, legs crossed, grinning at you, at our being there together, at us.

You rubbed your hand across your forehead, the  stressed executive personified and for a moment I felt a doubt about this event, the shift about to take place in the framework of the dynamic.  Unwanted thoughts intrude into my mind – what happens if we don’t find our place here, what happens if we don’the connect, what happens if we become that which we feel the need to escape from?

Then I see your eyes take on a familiar look. It’s signalled by a keenness in your eyes, a sudden flash of  fire and focus. The set of your mouth changes, and I swear your cheekbones sharpen but that can’t be true can it?  The next move is a new one.  It has never happened before and I am still surprised by my response eighteen months later.

With a sudden movement you click your fingers and point to the floor beside you. My legs move before I even think, closing the gap between us with a speed and alacrity that I didn’t know I was capable of and I kneel beside you.

I kneel beside you.

Just think about that for a moment.  It still amazes me. You click your fingers and I move, like a dog, like an obedient well trained pet, all my focus is on you and what you want and as my knees hit the floor I see the pleasure light up your eyes and I love it. I love it even when, my brain fires into action and exclaims ‘what am I doing?’ The answer comes swiftly, as swiftly as my earlier movement.

‘I am kneeling beside my Master’.


I'd love to hear what you think!

%d bloggers like this: