The Uncertainty of Being - Seventh in the Wonderland Stories

By Irish Eyes

I was surprised to see the email, after all this time. It had been several months since the last one, since the last time I had been invited to the mysterious house for the greatest adventures of my life.

Present yourself

Saturday, October 24th

8pm

4747 Rosemount Court.

You need only bring your sense of adventure and a mind open to the possibilities."

I didn't know what to think. I had had the most exciting visits and then they had stopped. Self-recrimination had led me to wonder if I had done something wrong. Had I not been interesting enough, exciting enough, grateful enough, sexy enough for the gentlemen (and ladies) that I had met? Was there some unknown faux-pas that I had committed? The nature of the situation was such that there was no way for me to ask the questions, much less expect any answers, so gradually, unwillingly, I had given up on knowing. That didn't mean that I wouldn't still wish for understanding, but I had resigned myself to not getting everything I wanted.

I hadn't spent all the time sitting around alone bemoaning circumstances of which I had no control. I had moved on with my life. I am a woman who enjoys meeting new people, finding new experiences, and learning new things. I posted my profile on various dating sites, vanilla and alternative, and had met several interesting gentlemen. Some I connected with as friends, some as no-strings-attached sex partners, and one or two had the potential to be something more. I had a couple of less-than-stellar experiences as well, but learned from those, also. With those men with whom I really connected, I explored my sexuality. I continued to try to discover what I liked, what I didn't like, and what I might want.

My life was interesting and I was having a good time with it. But, occasionally, I became restless, feeling that something was missing, somewhere. I had come to understand, in the short time that I had made visits to the house at Rosemount Court, that there was a need in me, a need for something more. A door had been opened and, although I enjoyed the pleasures of the men I knew, I recognized that there was something more" out there.

Seeing the email on my computer stirred up all those feelings again. Would I go back to the house? Was it even possible for me not to go back? Was the need for more" so much a part of me now that I would go, in spite of the circumstances of the elapsed time? And what were those circumstances? Perhaps it was not me at all. Perhaps I had done nothing wrong, said nothing impolite. Perhaps I was just fine and things had just happened to interfere with further visits. Again, I had the experience of trying to understand the unknowable. Apparently, some lessons take longer than others! I would have to keep practicing the idea of letting go of the not knowing".

So, yes, I would go to the house. The drive, the need was too strong. Unfortunately, I had several days to wait, several days to think about it, wondering, worrying, all those unhelpful habits! I saw one of my men in the interim. He came over to play with me and I had a wonderful time. He is a lovely, caring man, very sexy, and we have always connected easily. He sensed that I was on edge and asked me about it. I had never discussed my visits to the house with anyone, particularly not one of my lovers. But I didn't think there was a real injunction against talking about it with my friend (without any specific details, of course). I told him some of my story- how I had been invited to a mysterious house, where 3 of my lovers had met me, together or separately, and I had had erotic experiences beyond any I had ever had before. I had delved into the world of submission and dominance, bondage and discipline. I had had experiences with other women. I had felt exposed, vulnerable, excited, and treasured . I told him that I had learned more about sexuality in these visits than most people ever learned. My friend listened carefully, nodded at times, and, finally, told me that he was very happy for me. When you talk about it, your face lights up, you glow! I see a new life in you, although you are never one to hide your feelings, this seems to be more". He was right. I was awake! I was alive! I smiled and gave my friend a hug, thankful for his love and understanding.

Saturday, I dress in green, one of my favorite colors. The dress has a scooped neck and flared skirt. I have malachite earrings, a gift from one of my visits at the house, and I hang them on my earlobes, remembering their significance. When he had given them to me, Christopher had told me that malachite was the stone of transformation. Indeed, I had been transformed. I drive the winding roads, still familiar to me, trying to contain my excitement. As I near the neighborhood, my pulse increases and I feel the blood rush to my face (I've always blushed easily!). I pull into the long drive up to the house nestled in the trees and park my car, watching the darkness moving in, twilight developing quickly.

I ring the door bell and the door is opened by Nora. Apparently, some things do stay the same. Nora has always been here when I have visited and, at times, I've wondered if Nora is always here otherwise. I've never known to whom the house belongs, who lives here. There has always been great mystery about it. Nora is part of the mystery. She is a beautiful, tall woman with dark hair and dark eyes, a quiet presence that can answer questions with a look, or refuse to answer a spoken question also with a look. I know that she has some connection with the other people I have met here, but I am still uncertain about her sexual orientation (although I've known her to have sexual encounters with both males and females), her nature"- I suspect her to be submissive at times, but there are other times when she seems to be very much in control, and her circumstances of being at Rosemount Court (Is this her home, does she live here, what is her role??). I receive clues from time to time, but I accept that I will not know everything until Nora (or someone else) decides it is appropriate for me to know.

Good evening, Caera", Nora says softly. She smiles in her calm manner and leans forward to kiss me on both cheeks. I return the kisses and smile. Thank you. I am happy to be here", I say. And suddenly, I realize that I truly am- whatever questions I had about whether or not I should return to the house have disappeared in the instant of feeling her welcome. I still don't know what might happen, but I am ready to find out.

Nora leads me into the beautiful home. Although I haven't seen it in a while, it all seems to be unchanged. The soft evening light and the muted lamps give a warm glow to the downstairs rooms, but, as before, Nora leads me to the stairway. We walk upstairs to the landing and Nora opens the first door. The opulent bedroom, the site of many of my experiences, lies before me. The edge of uncertainty rises again, but I take a deep breath and cross the threshold.

In the soft shadows of the room, candles are lit and the room is permeated with a lovely scent. Christopher steps forward and my breath catches for a split second. I force myself to take a slow breath and I smile at him. Christopher has introduced me to the most erotic experiences of my life. One of the encounters did not even include sex" in any traditional definition, but was the most highly sensual evening I had ever had, pushing my limits beyond anything I'd ever known. He had helped me find my submissive nature (I'm sure I already had it, but had never really explored it until he opened the door for me!) My eyes are locked on him and my pulse races.

Caera", he says, with more meaning than a simple name usually carries. Names have power, I have learned. In my casual encounters, often I do not use my lovers' proper names- I call them sweetie", babe", darlin'", and other little endearments which have very little meaning. With someone like Christopher, who has reached deeper into my psyche than anyone I've known, using my name is important, and I am acutely aware of this. His look draws me to him and his hands rise up to cup my face between them. He looks straight into my eyes and leans to kiss me. His kiss is all-encompassing. The rest of the world disappears as I melt into it, as he possesses me body and soul. When, at some length, we come up for air, I smile at him again. Ah, I've missed your kisses, my dear", he says.

His hands glide over my body, re acquainting himself with the feel of me, always keeping some connection. He steps back from me a bit and reaches into his pocket. When his hand emerges, a malachite necklace dangles from his fingers. I take another deep breath. This is a symbolic collar which Christopher has bestowed upon me in the past as we have entered into Dom/sub roles. He pauses and does not place the necklace on my neck. Caera", he says, we have played in this role before. Do you understand the role?"

I nod my head and quietly say Yes, Sir".

Christopher says I am giving you a choice tonight. I would like to be your Master. I would like you to be my sub. You will not be a slave. I wish you to retain control of your mind, but I wish to control your body. Do you understand?"

Again, I say Yes, Sir".

This is not a decision I would want you to make lightly. I will be in charge, I will be your Master as long as you wear my collar. I will protect you from harm, but I will push your boundaries and limits further than they have ever been pushed before. You have a safe word, Red, and if you feel that you are not able to continue for whatever reason, you will tell me your safe word and all play will stop immediately. I will also give you the word, Yellow, which you may use if you have discomfort (the only pain that I want you to feel is that which is caused by me, not due to a muscle cramp or awkward position) or if you feel you are getting too close to a Red situation. Lastly, Black is the word you must use if you need me to stop all play and remove your collar. You must understand that that will end our Dom/sub relationship at that time. Is this understood?"

I understand", I say.

My mind is spinning. What is he saying? I am hearing his words, but have more questions, which I am certain won't be answered, at least not as clearly as I would wish. Can I do this, can I accept this, without knowing? Uncertainty rises in me, causing me to shake a bit as if cold. My face is hot, but I start to shiver a bit. I take a deep breath, but it doesn't help me much. Christopher reaches out and puts his hands on my shoulders and I feel the calm settle on me like a warm blanket. Over the uncertainty, new feelings are growing- the wonderful calmness, the promise of arousal, the joyfulness of connection.

Caera, do you choose this? Will you wear this collar, completely understanding its full significance now? Will you be my sub?"

I look straight into his blue eyes. I see compassion. I see caring. I see honesty. I may not know much, actually very little about what I am considering agreeing to. But I know that this is a man that I can trust. I knew it the moment I met him and he has done nothing to ever change that. And, in a way, that is all I really need to know, all I really can know.

Yes, Sir", I say. I am yours. I would be honored to wear your collar." His arms enfold me and he holds me tightly, kissing my forehead. He sets me back, turns me around, and raises the collar to my neck. Reaching around he pulls the clasp together in the back and fastens it, leaving a kiss on my neck.

You are mine", He says. And everything is transformed.

Christopher places his finger over my lips and I understand that He wishes my silence. It is amazing to me that I have slipped into this role so easily, as if I had always wanted it and had been waiting for a long time for it to claim me. He lifts my emerald dress over my head, brushing my breasts with the backs of His hands, seemingly casually, but I know better. Although the touch is very gentle and my breasts are still covered by my bra, I feel the intimacy of the touch. I stand still, silent, waiting. His hands wander down my neck, over the top edge of my breast, down the side of my breast and over the curve of my hip. I take slow deep breaths, memorizing His touch, becoming one with His touch. He unclasps my bra and cups each breast into His hands, as if weighing them, then one set of fingertips grasps a nipple and pinches it, hard. I breathe through it (not anything I wasn't expecting at this point- I will have to be careful not to anticipate, not to try to guess His movements, His actions. I need to learn to just feel, feel exactly what is happening at that moment, not try to think ahead to what He might do next. This is going to take some work, I think). He releases my tits and slides His hands down to slip under the edge of my panties and slide them off. From this time, you will not wear panties in my presence unless I request you to. We will discuss the bra from time to time, as well as other clothing requests I may make of you", He says. Since I am still silenced, I nod.

I am naked. And, not only have I been stripped of my clothing, I feel that I have been stripped of my mask". I am vulnerable, in a way I have never been with a lover before. I am open- as I am His, I am available and open to His pleasure, in whatever manner He chooses. I am free- free of the usual anxieties, the usual worries about anything and everything. For example, like most women, I know that I do not have a perfect body. I have borne children. My breasts do not defy gravity- they are lower than when I was younger (but larger, as well). I have a bit of a tummy. I have a few extra pounds that I wish I didn't have. I am of an age" (not young, not old, and middle-aged doesn't even sound right) with all the experience, wisdom and physical limitations that go with it. But, in His eyes, I am beautiful! He tells me as His hands move over my naked body, squeezing a breast, cupping a buttock, tracing the curve of my flank, caressing my face and neck. At this moment, I know that I am beautiful to Him now, but I also know that, to Him, I will always be beautiful- it has nothing to do with physical appearance. That is incredibly liberating.

He directs me to lay down on the bed. Already, I have begun to understand his instructions, whether they are spoken or unspoken, it is my responsibility to pay attention and follow them. I don't yet know what I should do if I don't understand a direction, but I feel sure I will find out. I lie down, face down on a pillow. I feel very exposed and vulnerable, but I wait. Caera, you have had punishments before", He says. Oh, yes, I remember those. This is not punishment, little one; this is pleasure". I hear Him moving around behind me and I start to turn my head to see what is happening (automatically, without thinking). Ah, first I need to do something about that", He says and slips a blindfold over my eyes, adjusting it to block my vision. In a way, my anxiety goes up a bit, realizing that I won't be able to see what is going on. In another way, I relax, realizing that the option has just been removed and I can just accept that. I will have no further need to see until He removes the blindfold. Legs apart", He says, lightly slapping the insides of my thighs, reminding me that my legs should always be apart when I am with Him, making myself available to Him. I knew that! How could I forget?

A slap hits my buttock, catching me off-guard, even though I knew it would come, I didn't know how or when. I take a deep breath. Another spank hits my other cheek, different angle, different feel. I am trying to feel each strike, accepting it for what it is. During the interim, when I have not been invited to the house, I have read more about Dom/sub play and I have become more educated about the connections of pain and pleasure. But books and research are no where near what actual experience feels like! As I ready myself for the next spank (with His hands, I feel), a sharp strike comes from something different. Perhaps this is one of the floggers. But before I can really think about it, His fingertips reach between my legs and part my labia. I am certain that I am wet, now, and I feel Him smoothing some of the moisture along my labia, around my clitoris. My pussy gets even wetter and I can feel His fingers enter me. One, then two. He plays with me, exciting me, arousing me. And another strike lands on my ass. My muscles clench briefly, tightening around His fingers, and I hear His intake of breath. He says nothing, but I sense that He is aroused, also. His fingers move out again, sliding over my clit and spreading more of the growing wetness. Fingertips pinch at my clit and I moan. Another strike, maybe something different than the last flogger- I have no idea and it really isn't important anymore. I just want to feel, everything!! Sometimes, the strike stings a bit, sometimes more of a thud against my ass muscles, sometimes a flat slap, it keeps changing. But the fingers are inside me again, stretching me to accept three now. Then, moistened by my own fluids, a finger enters my ass. My sphincter muscles relax, allowing Him to advance His finger, and then another one. I am so aroused, so hot. The spanks have a pain component, I understand, but it is converted into the pleasure of His fingers filling me, opening me, owning me, that the pain is not perceived as pain now.

When you feel you must come, you will ask for permission. Understood?" I hear His voice through the heat of my body responding to all of the stimulations. Oh, yes, I need to remember to ask for permission to orgasm. My mind and body are overloaded right now, but I store that piece of information, so I won't forget. Yes, Sir", I remember to answer, sounding far away from myself. He drives His fingers into me, pressing against my clit, pressing against my G-spot and the pressure inside me starts to build. Please, Sir?", I manage to say. Please what?" He asks and I hear the tension in His voice, the huskiness of His own arousal. Please, Sir, may I come?" I get the words out. My sub wants to come?" He asks, taunting me a bit. Oh, yes, Sir, please!!" I cry, trying not to come until He gives the permission. Come, NOW" He cries exultantly. The fingers fuck me, harder, incredibly reaching my center and driving everything else from my mind. I spiral into my orgasm, my vaginal muscles grasping His fingers, spasming rhythmically. As the orgasm starts to fade, I sink limply into the mattress and feel Him slide alongside of me, holding me tightly in His arms. He gently caresses me, soothing the now-relaxed muscles of my body, staying in contact with my skin. Tenderly, He lifts the blindfold from my eyes and I quickly close them again, shutting out the glare of the light as it pierces my eyes. Slowly, I open them, adjusting to the light, and I see Christopher lying beside me. Very well done, little one" He says. You know that I love you, don't you?" He asks.

Love? This is the first time that He has said this, but all of this time, practically from our first meeting, I have certainly felt it. I have felt His love in every kiss, in every touch, in every strike of hand or flogger. I have felt His love as He has entered my body and I have felt it as He has explored my mind. I have felt it, without a doubt, as He has touched my heart. Oh, yes, I do know that He loves me!! I look into His eyes, smiling from my heart all the way to my face, and I nod. Oh, yes, Sir. And I do indeed love you" I say, knowing exactly what I mean with my words. We are not discussing commitments in the usual fashion. There are no promises, no plans. There is only intention, and that is only possible in the Now. I know, with every fiber of my being, that He loves me Now. I love Him, Now, and with my whole heart. This is not something that is easy to discuss, especially the first time. But we both know exactly how we feel and are not afraid to say it. There is no uncertainty.

I am learning to let go of knowing. There are many things I cannot know. I cannot know what will happen tomorrow or the next day. I can hope for a future. I can wish for something to happen someday. But, I can only live in the Here and Now. The Present is all that I have, all I will ever have. There are some who try to live in the future (and plenty of people who live in the past)- anticipating that they will be happy in the future if certain conditions are met (If I have this, I'll be happy" or When this happens, that will make me happy in a way that I cannot be now") but failing to experience the life that is happening Now. I try very hard to be Present, accepting it for what it is at that moment and not expecting it to be anything other than what it is right then. I cannot know Why" always. Why someone does something or why they don't. Why a man might call me again, or why he won't. Why I wasn't invited to the house, or why I was. I can't know why someone feels what they feel. I can accept that they feel it- that's all I can do. I can only accept what is.

The night goes on and I find pleasure beyond all my dreams as Christopher takes me to a new world, a world of not knowing". He explores my body and teaches me to explore His, He pushes my boundaries until I no longer have any certainty of where they are, He exalts me to a higher plane of being. I feel more than I've ever felt in my life, and yet, I am learning to let go of control, let go of past hurts, let go of anxieties, let go of fears. As I experience, over and over, the contrasting sensations of our play, the intensity of the sex, the tenderness of the love that he gives, unconditionally, I learn to let go. Worrying is holding on to knowing". Pain (physical and emotional) is holding on to knowing". Fear is holding on to knowing". The knowing" isn't real- it is a deceit, it is a lie, it is a fantasy. When I realize this, and let go of the knowing", I find a certainty, the only certainty that is. The certainty of the Now.

The only thing that makes life possible is permanent, intolerable uncertainty; not knowing what comes next." Ursula K. LeGuin

The best thing we can do for ourselves is to be open to an unknown future." Pema Chodron

10/17/09

The End

I look straight into his blue eyes. I see compassion. I see caring. I see honesty. I may not know much, actually very little about what I am considering agreeing to. But I know that this is a man that I can trust. I knew it the moment I met him and he has done nothing to ever change that. And, in a way, that is all I really need to know, all I really can know.