“I can’t help how I feel!”
“Yes, actually you can. You help how you feel about it by changing how you think about it.”

A Dialogue About Leaving…


...Immersed in Domination & Submission

© Chris Courtney Photography

“Do you have to go?”

“Yes, absolutely. Can you hand me my sweater?”


“That’s not meant to be hurtful.”

“It is.”

“We agreed to test the boundaries. To try new things. To have different ideas about what our relationship is. If you don’t have the imagination for what we’re – I’m - doing, do you at least have enough imagination to pretend I’m going on a trip or something? Pretend I'm going to a family wedding...or a funeral.”

“How would that help if I’m still not going with you?”

“Sometimes how we think about something changes the way we feel about it... Did I leave my hair dryer in the bathroom?”

“You’re still going without me. Changing my perspective doesn't change what's actually happening.... It doesn’t matter. You told me not to love you. I should have listened. You can’t take that. It’s mine.”

"You never use it."

"I'll enjoy using it every day that you're gone."

“My, but you are a petulant boy sometimes.”

“And you’re a bitch.”

“Name calling? Really?”

"...You feed off me, I feed off you and there’s less and less of each of us with all that we’re consuming.”

“Take all your shit then and give me back my keys.”

“Can you take a breath, please. Before this completely blows up?”

“What difference does that make? You’re gone.”

“If it makes a difference to you that I leave without rejecting you - that's what you asked of me once - this is what that looks like.”

“I just don’t see the point in this stupid game of yours. You’re proving a point at our expense – at my expense and you don’t give a fuck.”

“I give plenty of fucks, darling. Do you forget how this day started?”


“Okay, if you can’t keep your sense of humour –“

“You think this is funny?! You really are a bitch.”

“No, I’m not, but you should stop being an asshole. We agreed to let go for a few weeks. I’m not ending this – “

“You’re playing a stupid game to prove a point I don’t want to prove.”

“Stupid? You wanna know what’s stupid? Putting all your focus on me. That’s stupid. I need to go so you – we – remind ourselves that there’s more to the world than just us. When was the last time we even had a meal apart? I do everything with you. I need to exist for a while without everything being about you. Don’t you want to experience life on your own for even a few weeks?”

“No! I don’t.”

“You do, you just don’t know it yet.”

“I do everything with you in mind. I don’t even know how to think without relating to you – and I enjoy that. It’s what having a sub is about to me. You submit your body, I submit my – existing – all of it - to you.”

* * * * *

Previous Dialogue:

Next Dialogue:

* * * * *

“That’s called addiction.”

“It’s called obsession… Nymph.”

“We’re not doing that now.”

“I never stop doing this. I breathe your submission every second …and I never want to stop.”

“Let go..... I have to finish packing.”

“If I tell you to stay…’nymph,’ stay.”


“You can give me that hard stare, but I want what I want. On your knees, nymph.”


 “Lift your skirt, nymph.”


“I will cane you til you bleed. Tell me you’ll stay! Now, nymph!”

“I had no idea it would be so easy to make you lose your patience with me.”

“Stay. With. Me.”


“Get on your hands and knees!”


“Don’t you fucking dare say ‘no’ to me! Don’t you fucking DARE!”



“Are you really going to do this?”

“NOW! .  .  .. Now, count them. Every lash of my cane, you will count out to me.”


“I will beat you til you count. That’s three so far. Count!”


“God damn you! You will stay with me!”

“No. I won’t.”

“God damn you. I hate this.”

“Well, that’s good.”

“ ? ”

“If you liked this, I would have to leave and never come back.”

“Don’t look at me like that.”

“Are you done?”

“….get out!”


“I will hurt you if you stay. Get out.”

“No, you won’t. You’re not that violent.”

“You want to see me get violent!”

“To what? Prove that you dominate me? You just broke the cardinal rule of domination, and I let you just to see if you would.”


“We agreed to this.”

“I change my mind. Men do that sometimes.”

“Only when they’ve lost.”



“I love you.”



“It’s vulgar of you to use love to manipulate me.”

“I meant it as a plea.”

“I know what you meant. Jesus, look at yourself. You don’t love me. You love my attention and my proximity. You were willing to beat me – to make me bleed – to force me to stay.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“Ya think?! I need to go so you can find yourself again. There’s none of you left. You’re so desperate, it’s pathetic.”

“Fuck you!”

“Not for a month…at least. You need to get some self-control back, and I’m the only person who can’t help you do that.”

“The thought of someone else touching you, makes me sick.”

“No. The thought of someone else taking your fix from you, makes you sick – because you think that if someone else gets, you lose. I don’t work that way.”

“I can’t help how I feel!”

“Yes, actually you can. You help how you feel about it by changing how you think about it.”


“If you believe that nothing will harm our connection, then what I do without you doesn’t matter.”

“Except that you’re doing something without me!...by choice.”

“Yes! Because I need to go out and be in the world on my own before I lose everything you love about me. You need to do the same for me. We both need some air.”

“So you’re sick of me.”

“I’m sick of your addiction to me. I’m sick of being your sole focus. I can’t be responsible for your enjoyment in the world. I’m sick of being your sole source of pleasure – and I don’t just mean sexually. I’m sick of the endless diminishing returns of us. We’ve gotten to the point where we agree about everything. -"

"Not this!"

"Exactly! And this is the most alive either of us has been in ages. I want this. I want to disagree. I want to debate. I want a different point of view. I want to strive for something bigger than just us.”

 “But I need someone to rely on. I need that stability and trust. You need more and new and different. I need the same, the same, the same so I can dive deep. Doesn’t that matter? Doesn’t it matter that I know I can push our boundaries, and that means I can be more of who I am than constantly hiding those parts of me that no one else can see? That only you understand? Why is that wrong? Why do I have to give that away?”

“I’m not asking you to give it away. I’m asking you to believe in it even and especially if I’m not standing right in front of you. I can’t be your fix, and right now that’s all I am.”

“All? All! That’s everything to me. You’re my solace. Is that wrong? That I need, and that need is quenched by you. Is that wrong? You’ve taken me down this road of submission and redemption. It’s like a portal to a place where I am completely me, and I know you’re completely you, and I don’t have to think or feel or anything. I just get to exist. And I love that, and I love you, don’t make me feel like shit about that. It’s the best thing I’ve got. It’s the best thing I’ve had. And now we’re at this place, this really intimate, unreal place, and you’re playing a fucking game with that to prove a point about bullshit. I thought this mattered to you, too. But you’ve got these arbitrary timelines about when we can be together and when we have to be apart and I’m a god damn yo-yo cause the minute you walk out of here, all this shuts down, and you come back, and we have to start all over again. Instead of you staying right here and we keep going forward rather than in circles.”

“Forward to where?”

“To where ever the hell we end up.”

“And I don’t want that to be a dead end. I want to expand and right now this feels reductive. You feed off me, I feed off you and there’s less and less of each of us with all that we’re consuming.”

“Or maybe we’re distilling each other down to our simplest, purest form.”



“Or maybe I know there’s not enough of me left for both of us. Maybe I know the the pressure of trying to entertain you and keep your interest is stifling me. I need some down time where I can be boring and not worry about seeing that look of disappointment.”

“Or maybe that’s what you tell yourself because you’re so damn terrified of commitment.”

“Ding, ding, ding! Yes, Mr. Barker, give this man a prize! I’m terrified of commitment because I know it doesn’t work – and we’ll both need a bit of resilience when it fails. We promised each other, we’d test the boundaries. And if we don’t, if we just keep going on and on, we’ll never ever know that being with each other is a choice we choose freely because we want to and not a trap that we just can’t escape..”


“You just pushed our boundaries with your temper, I have the welts on my ass to prove it. I need to push our boundaries with some space and time.  Are you willing to lay yourself bare and open yourself up to pain for me?...the way I have for you?”


“Then I will see you in 4 weeks.”

“4 weeks.”

“No texts, to phone calls, no emails.”


“You can leave a comment, but no messenger.”

“And if something happens?”

“I’ll know.”

“And if I don’t want you to come back?”

“Then what did any of this matter in the first place?!!!”


“I will miss you more than words can say.”

“Go! Go. Go now….[to the closing door] or I might never let you leave.”

© Copyright Eurydice Rising