i remem­ber once hav­ing a con­ver­sa­tion with a lovely lady who was enjoy­ing her 97th year of life. During our quiet moment of shar­ing we ven­tured onto the topic of reli­gion. At that time i was scorned, left with little if any faith in God and i was amazed by this strangers strong spir­itual con­nec­tion. As we were about to part ways i turned to her and asked, “what makes you believe, where is the proof”? Her eyes were full of love as she pat­ted my hand then spoke, “for those of us who believe, no proof is neces­sary but for those who do not believe, there will never be enough proof”.

i knew, imme­di­ately, her words rang true and i have since shared that the­ory with numer­ous people regard­ing a pleth­ora of top­ics and one such topic is sub space. i con­fess, when i first delved into the world of Masters and slaves i laughed at the notion of a mys­tical hyp­notic tran­scend­ental plane where i floated “out of my body” exper­i­en­cing pleas­ure sur­pass­ing the aver­age vanilla being. i scoffed at slaves who stated they were high on obed­i­ence and pleas­ure, lost in a world of the subconscious.

Who were they kidding?

i was unable to wrap my (Masters) mind around such a concept. How was it pos­sible to be “high” from men­tal and phys­ical stim­u­la­tion? i was most cer­tain the _only_ way a per­son would be able to feel that “high” would be if she/he con­sumed chem­ical sub­stances there­fore cre­at­ing arti­fi­cial endorphin rushes.

That was until i went for my run.

Running has always been a rush for me, my own per­sonal high and as many fel­low run­ners out there know, run­ning often brings about a flood of endorphins most often referred to as “hit­ting the wall”. (Hawkes, C.H. 1992. Endorphins: the basis of pleas­ure? Journal of neur­o­logy, neurosur­gery and psy­chi­atry 55: 247 – 250.)

i can recall numer­ous occa­sions where i have been run­ning and i felt as though i could not go on; that every muscle in my (Masters) body ached and my (Masters) lungs were about to col­lapse and yet i pushed through not only accept­ing the pain but embra­cing it.

Why does this hap­pen? Endorphins.

Endorphins are a group of ten neur­o­trans­mit­ters that activ­ate opi­ate recept­ors. Endorphins are com­posed of chains of amino acids between five and sev­eral dozen mem­bers long. (Hollt, V. 1983. Multiple endo­gen­ous opioid pep­tides. Trends in Neuroscience 16: 24 – 26.)

i remem­ber sit­ting on a bench after my long hard run, heart thump­ing loudly against my chest and feel­ing exhil­ar­ated; com­pletely euphoric and light headed with pleas­ure. As i sat there i could not help but won­der, “is _this_ what all those slaves are refer­ring to when they talk about sub space”?

It was in that exact moment that i believed. my (Masters) body tingled and i was con­sumed with love, lust, and obed­i­ence to “the run”. Running, in a nut shell, was my sub space. i no longer doubted that deli­cious alter space of sub­mis­sion and when i finally exper­i­enced it for myself, (years later mind you) i could not help but laugh at the fact that i once ques­tioned the san­ity of so many slaves.

Sub space is some­thing you believe in or do not. Sub space is an exist­en­tial neur­o­lo­gical jour­ney — one you exper­i­ence when you have faith.

i crave each time Master takes me on the jour­ney of sub space as it is a time when i release everything neg­at­ive in my (Masters) soul and embrace only the desire and need to be everything to and for Master. Everything.

And any­thing.

i wish i were able to adequately describe the heaven that is sub space, unfor­tu­nately i am unable to. The best that i may offer is this: the warmest sun­shine upon your face and the light­est of caresses upon your body com­pleted with the most lov­ing words whispered in your ear fol­lowed by the most magical moment of mak­ing love.

That is my sub space.

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