So, i've been lazy posting here (sorry, Sir) and haven't really talked about my weekend with Master.
Had my first serious correction/discipline session, which i richly deserved.
Why? Same old thing, same old issue. He does not like when i make self-effacing remarks, and say unkind things about my appearance, particularly my weight. i have been specifically directed not to do this, and yet i cannot seem to stop myself--even now, after having felt the consequences.
i know that when He looks at me, He does not see me in the same way that i do. i know i am looking at myself as though through an old window--thick, wavy and distorted with self-criticism and self-disgust. i know this, my brain knows it, the rational part of me knows it. But. But, but, but. i just cannot believe, i truly can't believe that others don't see the same thing when they look at me. There are times when, in the right light or at the right angle, i think i look pretty okay (from the boobs up at any rate) but then i get a sidewise glance at myself, or a truly candid photograph, and i know that is how i look. i've been punished for this, for saying negative things about myself both this weekend, and last night in an emotionally grueling session. i'm trying hard to stop it, not only for my own sake--but because by saying and thinking such bad things about myself, i am insulting Him. i'm insulting His choices, His decision to take me as His...and i never want to insult Him. i have too much respect for Him--because He has so much respect for me. i can't bear the thought of disappointing Him, but i can't bear to think of myself as anything but ugly and fat. Catch-22, with punishment attached.
Other than the punishment session, it was truly a wonderful weekend. Master was cordial and kind and helped me to calm my nerves, and then smacked the holy hell out of me. Left great marks on my ass and legs. *swoons*
i was disappointed in myself though. i was just not in the service area of my mind. i was more in the girlfriend space, and that is not where i belong. Where i belong, is at His feet, and rubbing them, doing everything i can to see that He feels good. Where was i? Sitting on the couch next to Him, letting Him get up and get things for me from the kitchen, and generally not acting at all submissive. He says that He isn't disappointed in me, and that He bears some responsibility for not correcting me. But, i should be better than this. i know some of it will come with training, and i badly need the training and correction. i'm a tremendously willful girl--good in a career context, not good in this one. Master will have his hands full breaking me from my willfullness, and though i know it will be very hard on me, and very painful, i welcome it.
The next time we have a weekend together, i will be on my knees, presenting the moment i get inside the door, and i will stay that way as much of the weekend as possible. It is why i am here, it is who i am. i am His, will be His completely at some point...and i want nothing more than i want that.
In my day to day life, i work in the capapcity of an assistant. i have several bosses, all of whom have many needs which needs met--met by me. It can get overwhelming at times, and i'll admit to feeling resentful when the requests come more as an avalanche of demands. i'm very good at prioritizing them, sorting through their parts, and efficiently getting them done, with (most of the time) a smile on my face.
But, this is not the same as serving my Master. For one thing, the power exchange is reversed: at work i am the assistant, the underling, but i hold a lot of the power and we both know it. i keep the trains running on time, and although he signs my paycheck, my boss knows most anything he accomplishes has my fingerprints all over it. But this isn't serving. i am working, doing the job i am paid to do, which i have made a career doing. i'm doing what comes naturally to me, what i am good at. Oh, there are things i must do that are difficult or somewhat uncomfortable--believe me--but i am a partner in this enterprise. i can and do question my bosses directives, i can and do sometimes "manage up" and convince him to do things differently. i think and decide and direct.
And that is precisely what i must learn to abandon in service to Master. i read on fetlife earlier this week, a discussion between a Dom and his sub. she had apparently not informed Him or gotten permission to be online, and was caught out. her excuse was that she thought he was at work. His answer?
you are not to think and decide, that is not your place. you are the sub. I give direction, you follow it, without hesitation, without question. you have to trust that what i am asking is for your own good.
That hit me right in the chest--the recognition that this is one of my biggest obstacles to overcome. i want to serve, i need to serve but to do so i need to learn to open myself, to release my death-grip on myself, on my fears, on my emotions, and freely, gladly lovingly hand the reins to Master. It is huge leap of faith, a vote of trust and confidence. i have nothing but faith in Master, He truly does treat me better than pretty much any man i've been with--which might seem odd to say as he bends me over the bed and smacks the snot out of me, but that is a form of caring for me, of giving me what i need. And He has taken the time and effort to learn enough about me to know that.
Choices
Toes curled gripping the cliff's rock edge
she considers the leap, the freefall, the impact.
she weighs her options.
For she has them, never think she doesn't--
Service, submission
Losing herself to find herself in possession by another.
All choices.
Choices made not once, like a wedding vow,
Not once, like virtue's loss
But continually--
With every act
With every word
With every command
Every sting of pain
Every tear of remorse
The push of a limit
The test of mettle
Choices made
Called by the siren song of loss and redemption
Of desire given
Of a body given
Of a heart given
Of a will given
To the One who compels her
Who intrigues her
Who owns her
Who holds her with His hand heavy on her head
Not pushing her down, no.
Holding her still
So that she can finally enter
The small sanctuary of herself
And know what it is to live.