Kneeling [mdom] [fsub] [no sex] [wholesome] [praise]

i hesitate.

i dont know why i do, but i hesitate with my hand hovering over the handle, my heart thumping in my chest like its a starving beast trying to get free of its cage. i take a breath, then another, then a third when the first two feel too heavy.

in, hold, out. *just like he taught me*.

in, hold, out. *focus*.

in, hold, out. *good girl*.

in, hold, out. *one more*.

in, hold, out.

the shaking of my hands calms and the spiral i didnt realise id been going down diminishes into nothing. the next breath feels lighter, as do my shoulders... or at least the weight pressing on them from a-

a sleepy babble breaks me from my thoughts and something deep in my gut tugs me forward the final few steps. the handle clicks down and the door pushes open under my hand, having to stifle a laugh at the sight of my strong, burly, muscled military captain of a man sat in a worn rocking chair with a 3 month old bundle of blankets and sleepy stubborness against his chest like shes a treasure to be protected and cherished.

he glances up and meets my eye, brow furrowed in confusion. im supposed to be recovering and healing, after all. not hovering in the doorway of the nursery doorway like a shadow.

he waits, patient. always so patient.

hes waiting for my next move. hes waiting for an explanation. hes waiting for me to get my thoughts in order and my head back on straight.

another breath. in, hold, out.

my voice fizzles out into nothing and i go nonverbal under his gaze, under his attention. my fingers twitch and i shift on my feet.

hes still just as patient, letting me decide.

in, hold, out.

i pad closer before sinking to my knees between his feet, shifting to be leant against one of his legs, my own tucked under me as my head tilts to rest against his thigh. i look up at him, a smile on my lips, quiet and small and soft and gentle.

i take a breath, the bands around my lungs loosening as i settle in the familiar position, hands clapsing loosely on my lap. its been a year since ive knelt for someone, since ive knelt for my owner, my master, my sir - the title changes depending on mood, scene, day and so on. the dominance and authority, however, does not.

i sigh quietly, a soft sound that barely breaks the quiet of the room.

i like kneeling. its the epitome of non sexual intimacy, something so personal and safe and **ours** that i can just exist as i am, no expectations, no pressure, no anything. just me kneeling for my dom, just because i can, just because it makes me happy and content.

theres a pause and i almost recoil. i almost pull back as doubt and insecurity and fear and dread grips my chest with clawed hands and squeezes. i shouldve asked. i shouldve spoke up, or signed, or *something*. i shouldnt have just-

"youre spiralling, pretty girl." his voice sinks into my body, wrapping around me like a hug and breaks the slippery downward slope like its nothing more than a flimsy lock. a deep timbre that rumbles like thunder and soothes like a blanket fresh from the dryer.

in, hold, out. "good girl."

i sink under the praise, relaxing as i just breathe, focus being drawn back onto the other, lashes fluttering under the touch of his hand running through my hair, calloused and rough from handling weapons and machinery but gentle like hes afraid the slightest pressure would shatter me.

"my good girl." i breathe. i smile.

i like kneeling.