The very nature of the female anatomy hides the physical essence of our femininity: like the beauty within an unopened wild orchid. The space in which we grow are children is hidden, deep within our bodies and so it is hardly surprising that being trained to be open is difficult, difficult on the heart, on the mind and on the sense of self. Years of society's, family and personal conditioning that needs to be explored, opened, undone.
Physically it is easier for some to be open, to allow themselves to find peace in satisfyingly their master's expectation that they are physically open. For me, this is not a problem, it has never really been a problem; not after the first few toe curling, cheek reddening, embarrassing moments when I wanted to curl up and die, thinking that he only saw the imperfections I see each time I look in the mirror. Now I no longer think about it as he inspects me. It is just something that happens. That he watches me shower, that the parts of me that are hidden from the world are his to look at, explore, examine and generally to with and too what he so chooses, is just the way it is.
So why do I find it so hard to open up my thoughts in the same way? Is it a matter of self preservation? What he doesn't know about me he cant use against me, judge me and my failings, or is it some deeper fear that he will get my feeling and lay them on the table; look at them, explore and examine them and do with them and to them whatever he so chooses?
I have no reason to think any of this. He has never, at any point, done anything to lead me to believe that he will, in fact completely the opposite. He can be demanding, exacting, persistent, , manipulative (sounds like a check list for a good master) etc etc, but he is loving and kind, patient thoughtful and supportive, gentle and operates with my best interest at the base of our dynamic.
I have knelt before him, naked, with his hand on my throat, the pressure from his fingers increasing until the last thing I think of before I am enveloped in peace and blackness is him, my trust in him and his ability and desire to look after me, and yet I know I hold things back, and I know he knows. And each time I do, the punishment is worse( no I don't do it for the punishments...I hate them and all the feelings that are tied in with them!).
I wish I knew.