Spirituality and Dominance

‘Sixty nine...seventy’ Tristan counted off in his head as he performed his final push-up of his morning routine workout. His pale tan skin rippled with muscle as his chest heaved in and out trying to catch up with his breath. He rolled over onto his back, spread his legs and started doing crunches. ‘One...two…’ he counted off silently as he flexed his abs with each crunch he did. His abdominal muscles tensed with each exhale and bulged with each flex. Each abdominal muscle looked as though it had been carved out of stone they were so defined. ‘Fifty two...fifty three…’ he breathed, eyes focused and face hardened into one of determination. His biceps bulged as he interlaced his fingers behind his head. His arms, along with most of his body was somewhere between bodybuilder and athletically fit. He did not have the massive bulging body of a bodybuilder but he had more muscles than a professional triathlete. ‘One-twenty-eight...one-twenty-nine…’ he flexed and breathed with each crunch. The burning in his muscles grew steadily but that pain was what drove him forward. What pushed him to continue onward. That pain was a lesson and a gift and a penance. It was less than a fraction of the pain that he inflicted upon his willing submissive. While she would be freely and willingly accepting and begging for the pain, it would still be pain. Tristan did not believe in causing pain without knowing what pain felt like. This was his way of knowing pain. ‘Two-hundred-twenty-one...two-hundred-twenty-two…’ the pain blazed like hot coals had been slipped beneath his skin and were boiling his blood. He continued though. He continued until his muscles ached and his bones strained and his joints cried out. He continued until he could physically not go anymore...and then he pushed on still. ‘Two-hundred-and-seventy-seven…’ sweat dropped down his pale red face and his auburn eyes glazed with determination and discipline. He exhaled another breath and recentered his focus as he leaned back for another crunch. Tristan was a dominant master of BDSM and he was proud to be such. He was a dominant in the lifestyle of the world of fetish and kinks. He controlled the willing and the submissive. It was who he was…what he was. However, there was only one thing missing. One very crucial aspect to the equation. He was a master without a submissive. ‘Three-hundred-and-twenty-five’ he gasped and fell back onto the hardwood flooring and in a puddle of his own sweat. His rippling chiseled abdomen flexed and unflexed with every breath. His skin shimmered with sweat in the morning light that glistened through the open window of his one story, two bedroom apartment. Tristan Claymore was not without the options for submissives. Not even slightly. He sat up and with quivering muscles he flopped onto the side of the bed and looked at his laptop which was already open and logged into ‘BDSM LIFESTYLE’ and he opened his mailbox. Tristan was without a submissive because he did not want just any submissive partner. No, he wanted a partner whom he felt for...yearned for and desired for. There were plenty of submissive women of many ages who sent him messages weekly about how they wanted to be dominated by him. However any woman he met just didn’t contain that special something he desired. There had to be...a spark of union. Like when lightning and sand meet they form glass. When water hits lava they form a solid material that is unlike any other. That was what he wanted, what he needed to feel. He needed to feel that special immutable...something. His testicles tightened at the idea of meeting that person. The idea of meeting that special person made him want to dominate them in every possible way. The art of domination was not something that simply meant subjugating another...no, it was a thing of beauty and commitment and trust. It was a two way street in a master and submissive relationship. He needed to know that his submissive would trust him and believe in him. He also needed to trust in them in the same way. The submissive would give themself to their master, mind, body and soul and he would protect that...honor that and respect that like it were a life all of its own. That sort of person was worth waiting to find. He could quench his cock in any woman but that would not make the desire to dominate disappear. The feel of willingly dominating someone who wanted to willingly be dominated was unlike anything else. It was a sensation that went far beyond traditional commitment and ceremony. It crossed the lines into anything that average people could understand. But once fully experienced...it was not something that could be looked away from. It was like going from seeing in black and white to seeing in color. Once seen with the eyes and felt with the heart, there was no going back. Most of the women he met would have allowed him to use them, in fact most would have allowed him to do just about anything as long as they got to feel him inside them. Tristan wanted more than sex, he wanted more than intercourse. He wanted to feel the intercourse of skin and touch. The intercourse of words and tongue and mind and body. Not simply loins and pleasure. There was more to it than that...so much more and he needed to find someone who understood the same thing. Just as he was about to close his laptop a notification appeared at the top of the screen. He clicked on it and to his surprise an event notice filled the screen. A full BDSM LIFESTYLE event. Which was being hosted at the Untamed Sailor event plaza. Tristan furrowed his brows and read through the rest of the details. Being invited randomly to events wasn’t something that was strange, it was the fact that the event was a full fetish gathering. Rarely was there ever a gathering of so many kinksters in one place. It wasn’t due to the fact that the lovers of fetishes didn’t mix it just didn’t happen often. Lovers of whips and paddles didn’t gather with lovers of gags and vibrators. What was even more strange was the fact that there was no admin or leader for this event...it was anonymous. Tristan hovered his hand over the accept tab as he thought about it. It wasn’t as if he had much going on but rather if the event would be worth his time. He clicked the accept invite button and closed the laptop and walked to the shower, closing the bathroom door as he went.