In Tatters

I knelt at His feet in the utter mess I’d made.
My struggle to succeed was stark.
No one had ever seen me so disheveled…in such embarrassing circumstances.

As He cleaned me up for the second time two minutes, I looked up to meet His steady gaze and tried to gauge his reaction.

Disgust at another disastrous, completely unimpressive act of service?
Frustrated at my inability to get it together?
Sadistically amused at another ridiculous unglamorous predicament I’d once again found myself in?

I knew he was taking in every fucking minute detail of the wreck before Him and squirreling it away in the vault of His mind, but what did He feel?

His stoic expression offered me no hint. Without comment He stood firm in front of me.
Fuckin unwavering.
He hadn’t walked away.
He hadn’t stepped back.
I swear He may have even leaned in.

As soon as I’d semi-collected myself, I began my third attempt even as I tried in vain to push the remaining proof of my ineptitude out of view, hoping it would simply disappear and wishing we could somehow forget it ever happened.

Same results.
Only sooner.
Another fuckin mess.
Everywhere.

Hopelessness clawed at me.
All I wanted to was please Him.
To do it right.
To do it well.

I resigned myself to the reality that nothing would undo this fiasco. My confidence shattered. My shoulders slumped.

There was no lioness to be found.
No Alfred.
No whore.
No masochist.
No property.
No one.
Dem bitches had scattered.

I was stripped of every one of my usual energies that engages in Service. What was left was a dazed, confused, messy Kat at a complete loss at how to dig myself out of the deep hole of incompetence I’d inadvertently found myself trapped in.

As He cleaned me up yet again, I couldn’t meet His eyes. All my other moments of disgrace and poor execution that He’d witnessed over the last nine months washed over my soul. I felt…lost.

It wasn’t just a mess at His feet. My pride laid there in tatters as well. I wondered why He even continued to bother with me.  “I’m so sorry….You keep seeing me when I’m not at my best.”

Not a second passed before He replied matter-of-factly, “Your best is when you’re serving me.”

His unexpected words shattered my mind as the axis of my entire world tilted.

Wha?
Who IS THIS MAN?!?

I think my soul may have permanent bite marks from Him snatching it out of my body. 

I had no response. 

I couldn’t form words or even thought.

I returned again to my task.

To no avail.
Clear immediate failure.

My head bowed as defeat stalked me.  He graciously offered me mercy. “Turn around.”

I started to stand.

“No…”

I couldn’t even fuckin get that right. I wished I was a crier because the tears would have been a relief.

He bent down and physically slid, pushed, and tugged my body exactly where He wanted.

Then He knelt behind me, and with several “Are you going to be a good girl?”s deliberately coaxed my little girl to Him.

And for the first time, I gave Him “Yes, Daddy…” again and again and… 

~whimper~

Afterwards, He took my face in His hands and left me with my first ever forehead kiss, adding one more layer of confusion over me since I haven’t a clue what those might mean.


~~~~~~ ~~

Despite the posts that hit K&P, WIITWD ain’t always glamorous or sexy or even cute. Sometimes—no, OFTEN times—the most profound shit happens in the messiest moments when we’re at our most vulnerable.

I still struggle deeply with much of what happened. I don’t have a damn thing to be proud of, but instead of trying to forget, I keep going back…

To…He stood fucking unwavering.
To…”Your best is when you’re serving me.”
To… He brought my lg to Him.
And…that damn forehead kiss I still don’t understand.

I’m not sure I’ll ever be the same after this one, but I’m not sure I even want to.

Huh. For some reason, as I am finally wrapping up the last edits of this post, I’m fighting back fuckin tears.  

Maybe…I’m always deep down just a damn mess, and He sees that, and maybe…He’s ok with that? I dunno. I dunno.
~DominaKat