Through the Looking Glass

Tiny precious slivers

2010-07-14T14:57:00.001-07:00

There are parts deep inside, behind the eyes, behind the heart, inside the soul that can hurt worse than any pain you've imagined. You can break yourself into so many tiny pieces that you can't be put back together again. I wonder today that there is anything left of me.

Comfort

2010-04-28T14:03:00.001-07:00

Sometimes, there isn't a lot of comfort in the wide world.

People need need need things from me, right now, no...5 minutes ago, and oh-by-the-way-would-you-mind...

Today has been tempest tossed, full of other peoples needs, expectations, demands (sometimes in a rather abrasive tone) and I fielded them all, with as much grace and as much calm as I could manage.

It is odd maybe, that the One person who can always demand of me, the One who can always need from me, the One who I would obey no matter the cost--that One doesn't demand, doesn't expect, doesn't require. He doesn't have to do those things.

Real command, real dominance comes from connection, from caring, from love and giving. Those people in my day have none of those with me, and so they cultivate their little fiefdoms by bullying, yelling, and lofty attitude.

He needs to do none of those. He asks, He tells. He cares for me and about me. He loves me. He owns me for those and so many more reasons. Because He holds the string around my heart--not tightly as though I were going to run away, or disobey, but loosely and affectionately--I will always obey. I will always be, I will.

Morning and Night

2010-04-26T19:51:00.000-07:00

Every morning first thing when I get out of bed, and every night before I get into bed I take a moment to reflect.

Get on my knees, arms over my head, palms up, cheek pressed to the floor--in the the most submissive position I know. Master calls it Down; it reminds me of the yoga pose balasana--the child's pose.

There, on my knees I think about my day--how I can work toward being the best slave possible, what i want to focus on for the day, and in the evening, what I did well, and what I did not-so-well and how to do better.

Both times though, I say a little mantra to myself. I hesitate to call it prayer because that word has many connotations, and as a person of some faith I understand them. But the medieval Latin root of pray means "to make known, proclaim." That is the kind of prayer I mean here...

I say "I am His slave. I am lucky to have a Master who will work with me, will teach and train me. A Master who gives me chance after chance to prove myself. A Master who thinks I'm beautiful, and a Master who loves me. I am grateful for learning so much about myself, and growing not only as a slave, but as a woman. I dedicate this day to you Master, and will keep you always first in my mind."

I wish I could say that I hold true to that prayer throughout my day, but that isn't the case most days. But knowing that I have that as a framework, as bookends at the beginning and ends of my days helps me to focus, to remember, even in the crazy hectic workday, who and what I am.

I am His. Always.

Anniversary

2010-04-23T08:18:00.001-07:00

**EDITORS WARNING** Okay. This is a post that is maybe a little upsetting. It is not what I normally write here. Acutally, it is an excerpt from a piece I've been working on and hope to sell. I don't know exactly why I need to post this publicly, but I do. So, read at your own risk, I guess.

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Happy Anniversary.

I can't believe that it was 16 years ago this week that we met. There are days it seems like only yesterday. There are days it seems like it is happening right now.

You know, it is funny but I can still remember the oddest things about that night. I remember my shoes, vividly. They were black patent leather looking flats, with a crest or coat of arms stamped on the vamp. I loved those shoes, they were so shiny. And when I think about that night, I can see them clearly…one foot on either side of the dome light in your car. I never saw those shoes again. One was lost on the way to the basement, and the other was taken as evidence after they cut it from my grotesquely swollen foot. It was a shame, I loved those shoes, they were so shiny.

The dashboard of your car, I think of that occasionally. I'd never had as close a view of the underside of a dash as I did that evening--my head wedged as far under it as possible, the wires digging into my cheeks and eyes as you kicked. I didn't realize how many wires are down there, just hanging around under a dashboard. I still wonder what they are all for; I know they won't stop the car, because I pulled a bunch of them out trying to do just that. Remember? When the radio quit right in the middle of a song you liked, you were so mad! I couldn't make out what you were saying, with my head down under the dash and all, but your voice got higher and higher pitched as you went. Sounded kind of funny, like a cartoon.

It was such a long night, bled right through the next day and into that night too. Odd how first meetings can be like that, where time seems to either stand still or stream by so quickly that you barely register the hours. I wonder how it felt to you? Like a lightspeed bullet train, or a slow leisurely stroll? I know for me it was a slow, ponderous passing of each minute, coupled with a desperation that a minute had passed, and that minute might be the last we had, the last I had.

There are so many things about that first night I will never forget--the smell of your crotch when you wedged my head under the steering wheel and forced yourself into my mouth: urine and sweat, bad cologne and surprisingly, fresh cut grass. How I literally saw stars when my head slammed into the basement wall for the third time in rapid succession. As I started to go under, I remember giggling to myself that it was just like the cartoons, with bluebirds and stars circling my head. Silly what you think of sometimes. Oh, there are others: the crack of bones breaking, which is much louder than I would have ever thought being inside the body and all; the incredible blinding pain of the knife, and how once the endorphins kicked in and I lost enough blood, it didn't really hurt anymore.

There have been so many days, nights since that first one--and though we've spent them mostly apart, you are always with me. With me in the scars on my ankles, my back, inside my vagina, with me in the spilt second I panic at an unfamiliar touch, with me in my dreams, always. We are a couple, you and I, two moons falling around a sun, bound by the gravity of what you did and the way it still lives in me. You've moved a lot these past years, first to the county jail, then to several other jails until after 5 years, you moved on. Moved out of prison and back into normal life. I've moved too, moved out of a life where I was confident, where I had a plan for the future, into a hole of pain and loss, and slowly, slowly back from that darkness. Sometimes, I wish you well, I hope you can make something of your life, hope you realize what you've done. Most of the time, well...I don't wish you well. Most of the time when I think about you, it is with a blinding flash of fear, pain and absolute fury.

So today I say, Happy Anniversary. I hate you.

Here

2010-04-15T19:28:00.000-07:00

Sometimes place is the most important thing.

Spent the weekend with Master (well, part of the weekend) at his house. It had been several weeks since I'd been able to visit, and I don't think I truly realized how much I missed his home.

I remember the first time I was alone in his home while he was at work. I felt like an interloper--touching his things, even cleaning and putting away his laundry felt like a crossing of boundaries. It was very much HIS home then, but now after all this time, it feels more like ours in a way. I have things there--toothbrush, shampoo; I've organized his closets--sweaters together, shirts and pants hung, socks in pairs; I've mastered the whys and wherefores of his kitchen--while he is the far better cook, I am the far better cleaner ; but it isn't these things that make it feel like my home in a sense.

It is him. It is how he has made me a part of his life, and how much I've let him inside my heart (a rare feat for me indeed). It is the sharing of silliness while doing the dishes, sitting at his feet sorting his laundry while we watch television, cuddling close in bed. Perhaps it is because--for the first time in my life-I feel cared for and valued; for my service, for my submission, for my love, for me.

I wouldn't trade this for anything.

Looking back

2010-04-07T08:31:00.001-07:00

Sometimes, I think there is something seriously wrong with me.

I am divorcing my husband. Me, I am doing it.
He didn't ever want this, I did. And most of the time I feel relief about it. Pure, simple relief and a kind of joy in the freedom of someday being on my own.
I'm not on my own just yet, as we are still living as "roomates" which is a Whole Different Story For Another Time, but I'm more on my own than I've been most of the rest of my life.

And then there are days like today. When the pain of my marriage ending is real, palpable, like a roundhouse kick to my stomach.
Walking down the hall just now, I started thinking about the Lady Antebellum Song, Need You Now and nearly collapsed with tears and hurt.

"Yes I'd rather hurt than feel nothing at all.
It's a quarter after one, I'm all alone and I need you now.
And I said I wouldn't call but I'm a little drunk and I need you now.
And I don't know how I can do without, I just need you now."

But...I don't need him. I don't miss him. Well, sort of I do, but the him I miss has been gone for years, and the us I'm longing for never was.
I spent a lot of years believing hard that things would change, that they *could* change. That someday he would be able to care for me, to catch me when I stumbled, and that I'd be able to let down my guard, open my heart and relax in safety. It was all a mirage, I know that now.

I kept walking, past the mirage, past the ruined temple I'd built to our future...and found Master. Someone who cares for me, catches me when I stumble and makes me feel safe.

But today, I'm looking over my shoulder at the temple, remembering and grieving for all I've lost, whether it was real or a mirage.

Daydreaming...

2010-03-15T13:38:00.001-07:00

After a good weekend with Master--difficult at some points, but overall good for both of us, and a re-committment--I'm finding myself daydreaming a bit today.

Thinking of lying naked in His arms, held close safe, and warm. Knowing that I am His girl come what and who may. Smelling the essence of Him, and tasting His kisses.

Master, I miss you already, but know that you always have the collar around my heart, and always will.

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Serving both Masters

2010-02-16T18:25:00.000-08:00

I came across this passage from Ephesians:
"Slaves obey your human masters with fear and trembling;and do it with a sincere heart, as though you were serving Christ. Do this not only when they are watching you, because you want to gain there approval;but with all your heart do what God wants, as slaves of Christ. Do your work as slaves cheerfully, as though you served the lord, and not merely men. Remember that the Lord will reward everyone, whether slave or free, for the good work he has done."

I'm a woman of faith. I am a Catholic. I've always been, it is something I was born to, something I was raised in. Even during my more faithless points of life, when I didn't go to church regularly, if at all, I still felt and was Catholic. Master and I are both Catholic in much the same way. We attend Mass together each week, we both grew up in the church and can't imagine leaving it.

Which is why I guess, I equate my slavery with faith so strongly. When we are in Mass, so many times the lessons there speak to our relationship--letting go of control, having faith in the motives of my Master, serving with a happy heart, even when I don't want to.

This is the sticky wicket for me sometimes. The When I Don't Want To part. Because the truth of the matter is that Master and I don't live together. We never see each other during the week, although we are in near constant contact by phone, or email or text or what have you. There are things I'm required to do that I sometimes just...don't want to do. And nobody would be the wiser if I didn't do them. So where is the harm in skipping my evening meditation ritual? Not taking my panties off in the car as instructed? Wearing panties when I was told not to?

The harm is in depending on Master for my submission, and I think I finally, finally really get that now. I always have a choice in everything I do--get up on time (not a choice I make often enough, sadly) hold my tongue with the snarky remark I'd like to make, remember to follow my protocols, even when alone. Most of these things I do alone. He isn't here, he isn't within 200 miles of me. But he should be here, always. He should be in my heart, should be in my thoughts--at the top of my thoughts. I should do what I do to honor him, to please him, to represent him whether or not anyone ever sees it but me.

Because it is in that moment, that second that I'm thinking of how I honor him by doing the dishes, when I push all the chairs in at the conference table, when I hold the door open for someone, when I am the best me I can possibly be that I am most fully his. Most fully living as a representative of Him and his ideals. And nothing can give that to me: not Master, not a fancy collar, not marks on my back. I give it to myself by giving everything I have to Master.

What if?

2010-02-02T17:12:00.000-08:00

What if I really just have no idea what I'm doing? What if I'm just guessing along and hoping for the best?

Sometimes I think that is all anyone can do, but then I meet people who seem so sure of themselves, so driven, so knowing-where-they-are-going in a way I've never been. Their lives seem (at least from the outside here) to be straight paths, not always strewn with success, but purposeful. Mine is a lot of wandering around bumping into things.

But when I bumped into this lifestyle--although not into the right person the first time--it just felt...right. And now with Master it feels amazingly right. And sometimes wrong. Not wrong in the sense that I shouldn't be doing this, not in the sense that he isn't The One for me, but more that I'm wrong.

I'm really not sure what I'm doing most of the time, I feel all elbows and knees, and right now don't feel like I can do anything right. I'm trying hard to trust, trying hard to listen and do as I am told without overthinking (yes, I know, unpossible) and not read too much into silences, or words chosen or not chosen.

But it is hard. And I know it would be a cop out to want him to just grab me by my neck and FORCE me to listen, to do as I am told and to behave. Only I can bend my own will...but sometimes I just wish he could drag me kicking and tussling, throw me on the ground and make me mind. Make me better. Make me whole. Fix what is wrong with me. Because I'm not sure that I am strong enough, good enough, or woman enough to do it for myself.

Benefits

2010-01-29T11:51:00.001-08:00

I've been asked by a vanilla friend, what I get out of my M/s relationship.

And, I can see how it might look to them--I get smacked around (consensually, of course), told what to do, and act subservient. So..what's the gain from putting up with all that?

Well, as I patiently explained to him, I'm not "putting up with all that", and in some ways, those things are the reward. Getting to be submissive is, to me a benefit. And of course, as a girl who really enjoys the physical pain parts of play, that is something along the lines of a reward as well.

But today, I'm keenly aware of the larger benefit, the deeper benefit. Today my work is incredibly stressful, and has been all week, with no signs of turning into an oasis of calm any time soon. But, I've found a well of peace inside myself, a still and quiet place I can touch which brings me back to earth. And it is Master. It is remembering that I am owned, weird as that seems.

I found myself on a few occasions this week, sneaking off to an empty office, closing the door, and taking a few moments to be in my "down" position—kneeling, cheek to the floor, hands extended above my head, palms open. Kneeling there for a few minutes, I was able to step out of myself, out of my whirling stressed out emotional head, and focus on him. Focus on what serving him means to me—and how much I want everything I do to reflect positively on him, and be done with him in mind. And how much he loves me, and wants to help me become the best person I can. And the calm and peace I felt there on the floor followed me back to my desk, and through the rest of the phone-ringing-urgent-report-email-meeting-deadline-drama of the day.

And that my dear vanilla friend, that sense of fulfillment and peace is more than I ever could have hoped to have in any relationship.

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For you Master

2010-01-22T10:40:00.001-08:00

Beloved, thou has brought me many flowers
Plucked in the garden, all the summer through,
And winter, and it seemed as if they grew
In this lose room, nor missed the sun and showers.
So, in the like name of that love of ours,
Take back these thoughts which here unfolded too,
And whic on warm and cold days I withdrew
From my heart's ground. Indeed, those beds and bowers
Be overgrown with bitter weeds and rue,
And wait they weeding; yet here's eglantine,
Here's ivy!--take them, as I used to do
Thy flowers, and keep them where they shall not pine.
Instruct thine eyes to keep the colours true,
And tell they soul, their roots are left in mine.

~Sonnet 44, Elizabeth Barrett Browning

Sir, you bring me flowers, and joy and sunshine and smiles.
I'm grateful to you and thankful for you. My heart has as much happiness as it can hold, and I hope only to return half of the joy you have given me.

I love you.

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Public and Private

2010-01-20T08:51:00.001-08:00

Something I've been finding interesting as of late, is how much the lines of what is public information and what is kept private are blurred. I was raised, as was Master, to believe that one kept as much of one's personal dirty laundry inside the house as possible.

Sounds odd coming from a blogger, I know. However, the travails of our relationship, details of our medical histories, petty arguments with others and grievances at the "scene" in general or certain people specifically don't usually make it into my writing. I'll admit to the occasional lapse (see my post about gossip below) but for the most part, I don't write blogs about you if I'm angry at you. I either deal with it in my own head (or in my private personal journal) or talk to you.

What amazes me is fetlife. The way it is set up, I see everything posted by those listed as my friends. Everything. So if they post about their partner having erectile dysfunction, I see it—as does everyone on their friends list. I'm not a fan of this feature of fetlife mind you—it kind of forces you to create a dummy account to ask serious and delicate questions without the Entire World knowing that you are having problems. Or, in the case of so many people, you just don't care.

If it weren't so breathtakingly inappropriate (at least in my own opinion) it would be funny, and well…sometimes it is.

But what really gets me are the ranty things. I'm a fan of a good rant, don't get me wrong. If you could read my personal journal, oh goodness. But, that is the beauty of a private journal. It is private. I can re-read something a day or two later and think…wow, I'm glad I kept THAT to myself. I can rip out the pages, shred them and flush them down the toilet, and nobody will ever be able to read them. Because with a day or two perspective (or even an hour or two sometimes) I find that I am calmer, clearer and more coherent...sometimes. But not on the internet. You can take down a post, take down a comment, take down a picture—but on the internet, nothing is ever really gone. Someone might have saved it, and sent it along to God Only Knows Whom. Having said this, I do have some identifying pictures of myself, and some kind of explicit ones posted on fetlife. It is a risk. But, I'm not doing anything that I'm ashamed of. I'm not saying anything I will want to take back later. And—more importantly to me—I'm not making Master look bad, embarrassing him, and saying things that reflect poorly on him: things I can never fully take back once they are out there. Pandoras box if you will.

Other folks don't see it this way, that is clear. And I'm certainly not trying to be judgemental, just not sure how comfortable I am with so much oversharing. Thoughts anyone?

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Punishment

2010-01-11T19:01:00.000-08:00

"When was the last time you were punished? Why were you being punished? What have you learned from it?" Journal Prompt from Submissive Guide Journal Prompts

Ah, what an apt and if I'm feeling kind of snarky here, Timely journal prompt today.

The last time I was punished, was Saturday. Why? Because I cannot be on time. I have a very easy to follow set of rules about timeliness--I am to get up at a certain time, call Master at a certain time, and arrive at work on time. I asked for help in this regard, because I really do hate being late and feeling flustered and hurried all the time.

But I am not doing so well about getting better. The punishment, which I chose, was one smack with my most hated toy--The Tearmaker--for every minute I reported late to the above deadlines. This past week I had 16. Six. Teen. Believe me, that is a lot of swats with that evil horrible thing.

Master had me stand, elbows on the bed with my daily report book open. I had to read, day by day, how many minutes I was late and for what. Then I got the swats. 16 in all. It was terrible, painful, embarrassing--and I was 15 minutes late again this morning.

I did learn something from all this--that what suffers when I am late in the mornings, what gets missed is my morning conversation with Master. By being late, not only am I making myself harried and getting a hated punishment, but I'm short-changing him...the one person I should never short change. More than the whipping, that made me cry after the punishment session.

But, as I said, I was 15 minutes late again this morning. I don't know what is going on in my head right now. I am not disobeying to get the punishment...not acting up to get attention or the "play" of punishment. I genuinely hate The Tearmaker, and will avoid it at all costs. Well, not all--because I was late again today. I know that he doesn't want this to turn into a constant punishment, because that really doesn't do either of us any good. I'll still be late all the time, still be putting him last and missing his call--and he will just have to punish me, which isn't his favorite thing to do.

I am to come up with a plan to stop this once and for all tonight, but my head is spinning. I have some ideas, but if the threat of the Tearmaker won't deter me, and thinking of how I am putting him last doesn't either...then I really don't know what else to try. I need to get this under control for myself, for my job, for my social life, and most of all for Him. Period. Shape it up girl.

In me we do not trust

2010-01-07T21:54:00.000-08:00

Oh, what a short little word. Five letters that hold meanings I can just barely stand to think about.

Trust is the cornerstone of any relationship--familial, friendship, professional, vanilla or D/s. Trust. I've got big issues with trust. Big Big issues.

This week I've been doing a lot of thinking about the problems Master and i have had in our relationship...the bumps in our road. Most of them were, if not caused by, certainly aggravated by my lack of trust. I do trust Master--more than I've been capable of trusting anyone in recent memory. But. There is always a "but" in these sorts of things, isn't there? But, trust in general for me is very difficult.

In my life, there have been some serious breaches of trust, many of which I didn't find out about until after the fact. Sometimes long after. I struggle with (and this is going to make me sound crazier than I really am) the feeling that I'm the punchline to a big joke. That everyone is laughing behind their hands at me. That the popular kid who claims to like me is just playing a very cruel trick on me, that everyone "gets" something that I don't, and my eventual pratfall will become the stuff of comedic legend. That these things have happened, that the blade is still sharp enough to twist and cut occasionally upon thinking of them doesn't help either.

None of these have been done by Master. But, he is still paying the price for them, unfair as that is. I realize at this slight level of remove, that many of the things that so hurt me in the past, and now come to think on it, were due to or at least complicated by this lack of trust. So what is it that leaves me so unable to believe him? Believe that this is all real, and not going to end the first time I make a mistake? That there aren't all kinds of things going on that I don't know about?

I suppose, in the end, it is that I have a hard time believing that I'm worth all this. That anyone in their semi-right mind would sign up for a long-term relationship with me. This isn't a choice I get to make. I'm stuck with me...but he chooses to be stuck with me. Chooses to hook his leash to my collar. And that alone should tell me that he wants to be with me, wants me on the end of his leash, and at his feet for a long time to come.

New Year, New me? Or something.

2010-01-06T17:13:00.001-08:00

After a bit of a hiatus, due almost entirely to laziness, I am back to writing in this blog. I know that Master enjoys reading what I write here, and I really can only hope that something I manage to get out of my crazy head will help another on his/her journey to the submissive place.

I have other things to say, but I'm in the midst of a Horrendous Cold, and keeping upright for this long is kind of an accomplishment today.

Play

2009-11-19T20:02:00.000-08:00

I am so very happy to be back under collar with Master. The break was good for me, and helped me to work through a lot of things running around inside my head.

One of the things I realized, is that I'm still coming to fully understand the implications of being owned. One of the big issues I've struggled with is not being able to play with others at parties when Master isn't able to be there. I felt it was unfair, and restrictive. But, once I stepped out of my state of high dudgeon for a moment and tried looking from a different angle, I gained a little more understanding.

I don’t get to choose things like playing with others. Not because he controls me, and can tell me what to do or not do…but because I belong to him, which brings up two points to me. First, I am his to play with or not as he will. My body isn’t mine to make choices about, but his. This part I’ve always understood, although I didn’t necessarily like it all the time. The second part though…that I’m just starting to get, is that playing with me is a privilege that only he has earned.

It is hard for me to think that way, to think of myself, of my body as privlege for someone else. Another way for me to think of it is as part of my service. I take care of Master's body, his clothes, his home...and I am his too. I should be taking care of me and keeping myself for him. I think I get this now...and while I do want to learn and explore new things, I want to do it with him there, so that we can learn and explore together.

Truth and its consequences

2009-11-05T07:25:00.000-08:00

I've been having a rough few weeks. Well, rough is kind of putting it mildly.
Many changes, some good, some bad, some indifferent--but changes nonetheless.
I'm learning in this life, that change is the only constant, and it is in how you manage change, embrace it that makes your life.

One of the changes I'm going to make, is how I approach the community. How involved I am. I've been lately going to just about every event...just about every party, just about every thing. I was meeting new people, learning so much, and trying to figure out where I belong in this crazy world of kink.

But. But, but, but. I feel now like I've had my coming out, and its resultant trial by fire. I have to say that right now, I don't feel comfortable in the community. I feel like my life, my choices, and my relationship are being discussed at great length--and I don't like that. I feel like no matter what I do, I'm only feeding the frenzy of gossip and talk. If I don't go to an event, or party--Master has forbidden me to go. If I do go and he calls to chat or texts me--he is uber controlling and checking up on me. If I lose more weight (which I have been working very hard at, and truly need to do for health reasons if nothing else) it is because he is a svengali, choosing my food and beating me for gaining. If I don't lose, and *gasp* gain weight, it is because I'm miserable with such a controlling ogre.

Rock, again meet hard place. I admit that right now, I feel unwelcome in the community, and I will not go where I am not welcome. This is the only quasi public comment that I will make on the situation...but know this. I feel I'm living my life under a microscope right now, and I don't like it.

Want the truth? Here it is, like it or not.
Master is a great guy. I love him desperately. I will likely soon be making a committment to him.

He does not hurt me, he does not run my life. Yes, he is controlling--because he is my master and I want that, need it. I like and need the strictness, I like and need to show my submission in a dozen different ways. Is our relationship perfect? Oh heavens no. For one thing, I'm not an easy person to be in a relationship with...and I know this.

But, in the end. We work with and for each other. And as long as I can have his hand gently on my head while I kneel at his feet, I want for nothing in this world.

Ahem

2009-10-08T19:10:00.000-07:00

I am, despite quite a lot of things, a woman of faith. I go to church, I'm kind of pagan too...like to think of myself as an Earth-Centered Catholic. But at the core of it all, deep down inside, I do believe in a God. Do believe in a kind of Universal Truth. Do see magic in the beauty of the world around us, and the spark of God in the eyes of each person I meet.

One thing that I've never really been able to believe in for myself is God sitting at a big desk, listening to our prayers on speaker phone and deciding which to answer based on some sort of Big Magic 8-Ball or something. I just don't think that God drags us around by a string, or makes things happen to fix our lives when they are a mess. What I do believe in though, are little nudges in the ribs, moments when He is standing behind us, coughing into His hand, saying "*ahem* I believe we've tried this lesson before young lady..."

Several times in the past few days, I've felt that nudge, heard that polite cough, and tried my best to ignore it. But it kept coming and coming and coming...and eventually I decided to listen.

This time, the lessons were several (and old, tired lessons they are--but apparently very difficult for me to learn and heed). The biggest being--It Is Not About You. Truly, life isn't about me...life is about living, and loving, and sharing and opening yourself. Life isn't or shouldn't be about stagnation, fear of pain and rejection, and holding myself so close, so tightly that my armor is inpenetrable.
Life is technicolor vivid, loud as a carnival, bright, scented, vibrating with passion and love. My life has often rolled by like a slow grey parade while I stayed shut up in the garrett of my mind watching through the shutters as it passed. Why? Because I have been wrapped up in ME for far too long. Too worried about me getting hurt, too worried about my feelings, about my ego, panicking and running from everything that made me the least uncomfortable, was difficult or painful.
I've been so convinced everything is about me that I couldn't open the window, can't open my arms, and my heart and give without worrying about what I'm going to get.

But that is no way to live. It is no way to love. And it is not at all submission. I need to give myself--my time, my service, my patience, my love, my trust and my very will to the one who loves me and cherishes me as his prized possession. He doesn't know all the answers, doesn't really know where we are going, isn't perfect, isn't infallible--but he loves me, and acts out of that love. In calling myself slave, in offering myself to him this way, I have to let him hold my hand to guide me. Sometimes it is going be uncomfortable, going to be difficult and hurt like hell, but out of that will come joy, peace and growth.

Sir, I am yours. There is no place I'd rather be, than kneeling at your feet, nothing I'd rather do than what is in service to you, nothing could make me happier than your pride in me. I am slave, You are Master, and I open my hands, and my heart for you to own.

Lovely to be a woman

2009-10-07T09:34:00.000-07:00

How lovely to be a woman,
The wait was well worth while;
How lovely to wear mascara
And smile a woman's smile.
How lovely to have a figure,
That's round instead of flat;
Whenever you hear boys whistle,
You're what they're whistling at.
It's wonderful to feel
The way a woman feels;
It gives you such a glow just to know
You're wearing lipstick and heels!

The person who wrote these lyrics is obviously a man.
(it was a man, Charles Strouse btw)

Cramps, cramps, cramps. Ick, ick, ick.
Beauty of the reproductive system my ass.

Dunno

2009-10-03T15:24:00.000-07:00

I just dunno. About a lot of things. I don't want to be a grown up anymore.

I want to curl in a ball, and sleep for about a week; emerging as a different person whom nobody knows, and nobody wants to know.

That about sums it up.
Bluh.

Almost, but no.

2009-10-03T10:20:00.000-07:00

I almost, ALMOST posted this to a discussion group on Fetlife.
It is a group I normally adore reading--Suck it Up Buttercup. Great stuff there, lovely fun opinionated ladies.

But, then they had this discussion: Rape
And I just couldn't stop reading. I commented once, and should never have gone back to read more. But I did, and nearly posted the below. I'm glad I didn't, because frankly--the poster who said "nobody cares about your rape" is right. To which I add, "nobody wants to think about this, and are taking the agressive position to avoid having to stare the reality of this in the face"

Had I posted there, it wouldn't have gotten a decent read, and certainly any thought. But I feel the need to say this in a publicish forum (for some reason) and so you, my dear lucky readers get to hear it. Some day, some day...I will post more on this subject, but...it isn't one that A) is pleasant B) you probably even want to read about. So...someday.

----------------------------------------------------------------
@butchbrutus "The word Rape, is powerful, savage, cruel and degrading in nature. It commands absolute submission, which is why is it used so often and frequently in the fetish world. One man pain is another mans pleasure."

Rape does not command absolute submission. Rape has NOTHING WHATSOEVER to do with sex, sexuality or eroticism. It is an act of violence, of malice, of crime. Submission is a choice--sometimes roughly taken, but always consensual, and freely given out of love, trust and will.
Other things that are acts of crime and malice: Mugging, robbery, vehicular homicide, car theft... Nothing pleasureable about any of those.

The thing I think, and yes I'm about to Not Suck It Up, we are missing in this discussion is--rape is not about the victim. Ever. It is about the rapist, his need to hurt, his malice, him him him. I've worked with convicted serial sex offenders--ask them if they remember anything about their victims. Name, hair color, size, clothing... Double dog dare you. They don't, because they didn't care enough about the victims (even those they knew) to remember. Could have been, and in reality was...any and every woman (or man). Submission is about both partners. And yes, I hate that word being used in joking context, as a description of rough sex. And yes, I LOVE, absolutely LOVE rough, violent sex. I love being taken by Master, being owned. Love being pushed, being used, being Forced. Because I have chosen to give that to him. I. Have. Chosen.

Is it because I have been a victim of rape? No, not at all. I would also have issues with the use of Holocaust, Incest, and Murder in a sexual or joking context.

Do I think others should have to stop using Rape to describe kinky sex? No, of course not. This is freaking FetLife, just about anything goes. Should I be told to shut up and suck it up because I don't like it, of course not. Two sides to every coin; respect mine--or at least not imply that I'm a Censor Sent From Hell To Harsh Everyone's Kink For Having A Divergent Opinion--and I'll respect yours.

All about numbers

2009-09-21T06:42:00.000-07:00

This weekend, it was all about the numbers.

First off, Master and I have the chance to bring into our relationship a wonderful, amazing woman. She and I click in a friendship way like I do with so very few women. Very few. And...I'm terribly attracted to her, she is adorable and sexy. Master is attracted to her too, and clicks with her deeply on a D/s level. So soon, we may be a triad instead of a diad.

I'm excited, and nervous to be honest. I really think this will be a great experience for all of us--a chance to explore some things we just can't as two; a chance to share the love I've come to know with someone who needs to be loved ten times as much as she is right now; a chance for all of us to explore some boundaries, grow and learn. And, I'm nervous about how this is going to work, and my own reactions. I'm not by nature a jealous person--I've never had a problem with it in any other relationship, but I feel more possessive of Master than I'm comfortable feeling. I'm trying very hard in my life to learn how to sit with uncomfortable feelings, how to feel them, to be in them, but not let them overwhelm me. This as opposed to my general tactics of running away, or distracting myself with something more comfortable. I'm feeling a bit possessive, and will admit at first it was kind of hard to see Master interacting with our new friend with an intimacy usually reserved for me. And that is a really hard and unflattering thing to admit to myself.

But, as our time together continued, I felt better and more relaxed. And after Master and I talked about it in the evening, I feel perfectly fine with the arrangement. She is a wonderful, fun, adorable, nifty-neato woman--and I will be proud to call her sister when that time comes. (plus, she loves Mystery Science Theatre 3000, wewt!) And, I'm learning that I do have some possessiveness in me after all, perhaps I've never really had anything to feel possessive about before. It isn't a bad thing, not a bad thing at all. And I'm looking forward so very very much to exploring this new relationship with Master and our new friend.

Rock, meet Hard Place

2009-09-19T19:15:00.000-07:00

When I got married, I never gave a thought to it ending.
Not by death, and not certainly with divorce.

But, that is indeed what is happening.

I met my soon-to-be-ex when I was 27 and he was 23. We met through an ad in the personals section of the free alternative paper in town. I called on a very drunken bet with my friend Ryan--that the other couldn't even get laid from the personal ads. I called one ad, he called one ad. And then, I promptly forgot about the whole thing.

Until he called a week later. Well, to make a long story short, we went on a date, he kind of never went home and we got married a few months later. I wasn't really in a good headspace to make Life Altering Decisions then. But, I did. We had some good years, some kind of okay years, and then some years that weren't really worth having.

So--here we are. 15 years later, getting divorced. It isn't a bad thing, painful to be sure, but not bad for either of us--or won't be eventually. Heck, I don't understand what happened, but what I do know is that I have needs that I'm finally willing to address: companionship, a partner not a child, someone who has at least some interest in me sexually, someone who can be a responsible adult, and that I need to...not all the time, just every once in a while...come first. He couldn't and in some cases wouldn't do those things, and wasn't willing to try. So that was that. I've always said that marriages have two sides--the inside and the outside, and only two people can know the inside.

To our friends and family we were a pretty perfect couple in many ways. And truly, we were good together in a lot of respects. But it hadn't been working for at least 5 years, and I was becoming more and more desperately unhappy. So, finally I got my courage up enough to let go. And it has hurt more than I ever dreamed possible. I'm happy, I'm relieved, I'm hurting him terribly and it is killing me.

And more than just him, I'm hurting our friends and families. My sisters and mother really like him, and I'm happy they do. He is a good guy overall. Our best friends are devastated by this. They consider us family, their kids grew up with us as family and I know it is hurting them too.
Seems like wherever I turn, whatever I do, I'm hurting the people I love most by having needs and asking to have them met.

Then I met Master. He takes care of me, is there for me in ways that my ex just wasn't capable of being. And, I'm falling deeper and deeper in love with him every day.

Enter Rock and its companion piece Hard Place.
I am so very happy with our relationship, so content, so safe, so...home. And I can't share it with the people in my life. My marriage isn't officially settled, and even if it were, they need time to wrap their minds around the divorce...leave alone that I've found someone already without even trying. I didn't leave my husband for master. He was long gone both physically (had moved out) and emotionally (had moved out in that way years ago) before I even signed up for the website on which I met Master. I was truly just looking for a little fun, trying to explore. When Whammo--the love bug bit me on the hinder. Hard. I want to shout it from the rooftops, want to tell everyone I know about the wonderful wonderful man who loves me, and who I love so dearly. The man who takes care of me, who respects me, who thinks I'm beautiful and sexy, and who understands my needs in a way I'm not sure I do. But, for now...for who knows how long, I have to keep it to myself, and lie to those I love. And you know what? I wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. I'm happier now than I've ever been, and damn anything that is in our way. I love Master, and that is that.

Wonderful Weekend

2009-09-16T09:10:00.000-07:00

What a wonderful weekend it was.

A busy weekend, but a wonderful one. This was the weekend of COPE, which we were not able to attend due to our lack of early ticket purchasing. I think though, that not going this time was likely our best plan. I would love to go next year--and will want to go to Winter Wickedness in February if I am permitted--but for where I am in my journey, where Master and I are in our relationship things worked out for the better with our not attending.

We did go to a play party at the home of friends who have a Fabulous Amazing Dungeon. I tried out the spanking equipment--one with a three point tie-down that I couldn't hold for more than about 10 minutes before I got too dizzy, as well as the wonderfulsauce spanking bench. And the cross, of course.

Had some very hard play. Very hard. I actually called yellow twice, and red on one part of my body. Intense stuff, but wunnerful wunnerful.

The party was fun--watched OSU lose while playing a game with Master on the score, USC scores, I get a swat; OSU scores, I get to pinch his nipples. Either way, I won! :)
Talked to some good friends, met some new fun people including a few lovely ladies I hope we get to know better.

The next day we hosted a brunch for some friends to "show off your marks."
I had some nice ones to show, and Master had me wear just an apron and underthings to best show them. It was a lot of fun, and the food was excellent, courtesy of Master.

Protocol

2009-09-11T09:40:00.000-07:00

Master is coming for the weekend, and today we are observing High Protocol.
This is my first experience with High Protcol, and so far I love it.

Dear gods in the heavens I am so very turned on by everything involved--the rituals, the focus, the attentiveness, the dominance. I mentioned to Master that I feel very owned today, and it is true. I feel owned every day, and am reminded in many little ways throughout the day: a choice I defer to Master, stopping to consider my behaivor at work as a reflection of his training, following my house rules putting collar on and removing clothes immediately upon arriving home. But today, only referring to him as Master, not speaking unless directed to, not doing anything but exactly what I am directed, and that according to strict rules has filled me with a sense of ownership, of property that I've never before experienced.

I know for some it is the physical aspects of a bdsm relationship that are arousing, not the power exchange. But I can truly say that while I am quite a pain loving girl, I am equally as turned on by dominance and ownership. When Master's voice gets a slight edge to it, a hint of warning, and he looks at me with owner in his eyes, I melt into a puddle of pleasure, love and grace. I am where I should be--on my knees looking up at the man who owns me, and who I love more than anything else in this world.

Learning, Listening

2009-09-03T12:19:00.000-07:00

This week Master decided to help me tackle one of my most entrenched bad habits/issues/whatever.

Tardiness. Once upon a time, I was always on time. Early even. Somehow though, I've gone from Super-Punctual Girl to Always Rushed Harried and Late Girl. I don't like it at all.

He has put me on a schedule in the mornings--wake up times, blocks of time for getting ready, set time for my morning call with him, and for leaving the house. This has not gone tremendously well so far. I've not made the entire schedule on time once yet. There is, of course, punishment attached to continually missing my marks--not each incident, but over the course of a week my tardiness can build to a punishment point. And, I have no doubt that it will, though I do not want the punishment. At All.

Thing is, I appreciate that Master is doing this for me. I have tried, in my ususal way to excuse myself out of things--I was very tired, I was up late working, I got caught up in reading my email and didn't notice the time, la la la. For my entire life, I've managed to excuse and charm my way out of consequences, or at least out of reprobation. But, he doesn't let me get away with it. Not for one hot second. It frustrates me to be called out in this way, and I find myself reacting like a child--and feeling the wave of childlish defiance of authority wash over me. It is an uncomfortable feeling, sitting with myself, listening to my internal dialogue sounding so very petty, very childish, very sorry for myself.

As uncomfortable as it is though, it is helping me tremendously. I am actuely aware now of my inner thoughts and running commentary, aware of how negative, and self-serving they can be. And since I'm aware now, I can stop the thought patterns before they get out of hand. And he helps me--grabs me by the hair (sometimes verbally on the phone) and makes me admit that my excuses really don't cut it. Sure, they are all reasons I was late, but I was supposed to be on time. Period. Regardless. And it makes me love him all the more.

Onward

2009-09-01T10:43:00.000-07:00

Had a wonderful, amazing weekend with Master. After the emotional tilt-a-whirl of the past week, we needed time to reconnect, refocus and move forward once and for all.

Friday we had a terrific date--got dressed to the nines, went to a lovely asian fusion restaurant. It was raining, and he opened the car doors for me, and held the umbrella for me. Sad as this sounds, I've never had a single other man do that for me on a date or otherwise. Dinner was wonderful, and I just couldn't stop staring at him with a huge grin on my face. This amazing and handsome man--who wants to own me, who despite all my crazy emo drama nonsense has not left me, but somehow loves me anyway.

He ordered dinner for me, as he always does. But this time, something had shifted. I never minded him doing that before, never really gave it a lot of thought to be honest. Now though, it felt like ownership, felt like control, and placed me under his hand.

We also to a trip to The Chamber, hooray! Master bought an absolutely beautiful blue suede flogger, with which I have fallen headily in lust. Also we got a Wartenberg wheel--yummy! And a squishy purple ball gag--which I adore!

Needless to say, we tested them that evening in an intense and kind of moving bit of play. And again, something had shifted--not that the pain was different per se...but it was deeper, warmer, more alive, if that makes any sense. It felt more real, more possessive. And when all was said and done, when I was at last lying in Master's arms naked, sweaty and spent, I knew then more than I ever had before that he owns me. Collar or no collar, ceremony or no ceremony, I have given myself to him completely. I would gladly give up the myriad little things that drive us apart sometimes, just to stay there locked in his embrace. I love him, and I belong to him.

Phoenix

2009-08-28T12:42:00.000-07:00

While not from actual flames, I think Master and I have risen again as a couple from the ashes of our relationship as-it-was.

What happened? Hell if I know.
That isn't entirely true, I do know some of it. I was scared of feeling--well, anything actually. I'm not good with feelings, tend to keep them bottled up until I can't bear anymore, then some little thing tips the bottle and spills them. Not pretty.

But also, we were not communicating as honestly and completely as we should. This is such a problem for me in relationships. I tend to want to make Master (and the men in my life before him) happy, without question, without hesitation...and without asking for the clarification I need sometimes. And without saying how I really feel. This is no way to have a relationship, especially not a D/s relationship and the power exchange therein.

So, as I do in these sorts of situations. I panicked. Ran.
Actually, I'm not being fair to myself here. I didn't run in the way I normally do when someone is getting too close, when I've let someone in and they are in a position to hurt me if they so choose. I asked for a week of from our relationship. To think. To clear my head. To just be.

It lasted an entire 3 days. But, we both realized in that span how much we mean to each other, and I realized (and I'm going to scare myself here) that I'm truly falling in love. Maybe for the first time. Maybe the first real, workable, adult love of my life. And I'm terrified, but happy at the same time. I realized that I would be willing to compromise in a lot of decisions in order to stay with Master, even if in a vanilla relationship. He realized the same. We came to some compromises about the bigger issues we faced, and I think we have a solid basis to move forward now.

It won't be easy, no good relationship is rainbows and puppy dogs and unicorns all the time. And I struggle mightily with submission, even though I want it, I need it and I know it is the way I'm wired. I want this relationship--want it more than any I've ever had. And I know now that it will take work than any other to make it continue to function, but I can't think of a better goal than being in Master's arms, warm, safe, protected, cherished and loved.

Limits

2009-08-25T12:08:00.000-07:00

In the lifestyle there is lots of talk about limits--as well there should be.
Some of the activities engaged in can be, if not downright dangerous, at the very least uncomfortable. And some of the edgier play well; there is a real chance of injury if people aren't paying attention both to safety, and to their limits.

I've been doing a lot of thinking about this lately.
Physically I don't think I've come near my limits yet. There have been I think two maybe three times in play that I've had to ask for a moment, or for impact to move to a slightly different spot. I wouldn't say they were crossing the limit for me, because I could, wanted to and did continue playing. Just needed a moment to compose myself again, and breathe a little.

I've had some decently hard play, and again--we haven't gone over a line for me yet. Even during the worst discipline beating I've had, the one which made me actually cry from pain. I still wouldn't consider that over a limit for me. I'm a little worried that I won't know the line when I come up to it, won't see it coming until it is too late, and I'm far far past where I wanted to be. I guess that is where the trust comes into play, and working with someone who can sense your limits even before you can.

I think the limits I do have--the hard limits in particular are more emotionally based than physically so. There are a handful of things I will absolutely not do: rape scenes, non-consensual scenes (even just playing at non-consent. But I do like rough manhandling play), daddy/daughter role play, and the usual coterie of animals, children and scat. (not the Mel Torme type, the poop type, lol)

Then there are a few things I'm extremely hesitant about--suction is something I'm just not into, seems kind of degrading to me for some reason, so I'm probably never going to try that. Needleplay is so intriguing to me, as is piercing--but I'm kind of chicken about it. I think I would try it, just needs to be the right person and situation. Fire play used to scare me, until I saw it--and now I'm intrigued. I won't say I'm going to do it, but I would certainly watch it again.
I don't think I can ever do knife play, I can't even really watch it; which is a shame as I've heard sensual knife play is beautiful to see. I love knifes and pointy sharp weapons of all types (I'm a geeky rpg girl after all) but I don't know that I'll ever be able to even watch it.

But the big limits I have are emotional. I'm not an open person, even to myself. I don't let much of anyone inside my carefully constructed battlements. And I have, and I'm paying the price.
I'm in over my head, my nerves are taut and raw, and I feel like I'm slowly coming unglued emotionally. Having spent so long isolating that part of myself, what possessed me to throw open the doors this time is a mystery to me. It was a mistake I think, I'm hurting and feeling hunted, and I can't do anymore. I call red on this now.

Would You Rather...

2009-08-22T20:14:00.000-07:00

Master found this question list on another blog, and asked for my answers.
What do you think about these questions? Hmmm?

Would you rather be spanked outside in a cold woodshed or inside by a cozy fire?
--inside
Would you rather be spanked in public or in private?
--hmmm, can I say either or?
Would you rather fantasize about spanking or actually be spanked?
--actual spanking. No fantasy feels as good!
Would you rather be spanked for your humiliation or for your spanker's pleasure?
--for His pleasure, always
Would you rather be spanked by hand or by hairbrush?
--um, probably hand.
Would you rather be spanked by belt or by cane?
--belt
Would you rather be spanked by paddle or riding crop?
--crop
Would you rather be restrained or unrestrained during your spanking?
--hard one..well, I do like being restrained so I'll go with that. Plus, I'm kind of wiggly
Would you rather be spanked until you cried or until you are aroused?
--aroused. It is difficult to spank me until I cry
Would you rather have just a red bottom or welts/bruises?
--welts/bruises, the more the better.
Would you rather be spanked for the naughty things you have done or just because you enjoy the experience?
--enjoy, enjoy, enjoy....yummy
Would you rather be spanked with pants up/skirt down or pants down/skirt up?
--skirt hiked up
Would you rather be spanked with panties up or panties down?
--panties down
Would you rather be spanked somewhat clothed or entirely naked?
--hmm, I'm generally naked when master is around so...I'll go with that.
Would you rather your spanking be strictly disciplinarian or sexually attractive in nature?
--sexually attractive. Most spanking for me is, to some extent or other.
Would you rather be spanked by a male or by a female?
--only been spanked by a man so far...ladies? want to step up? lol
Would you rather be cuddled or scolded after your spanking?
--cuddled
Would you rather be spanked OTK or bent over a table/chair?
--bent over table/chair...I'm too big a girl for the OTK stuff. I worry I'm smushing Master's legs.
Would you rather your spanker have physical contact with you?
--yes
Would you prefer to be spanked in the woods with a tree branch, bent over the hood of a car, or in a school with a ruler bent over the desk of your teacher/principal?
--oh yeesh, I have to pick? *winks* Um, woods I guess. Nature gal here.
Would you rather be a brat to your spanker to deserve a spanking or simply ask your spanker for a spanking because you know you needed it?
--ask for one, I don't like to be bratty, and try not to
Have you received a spanking in the past week?
--yes, and it was wonderful
Would you rather be spanked for the physical pleasure or the emotional release?
--pleasure, but sometimes as punishment the release is very necessary
Would you rather tell your best friends you enjoy be spanked or keep it secret?
--I've told a few of my vanilla friends...but not many.
Would you rather spanking be a lifestyle choice or just something you dabble in?
--lifestyle
Would you rather your lover be a vanilla or a spankoholic too?
--he is a spankaholic
Would you rather be spanked by a stranger or by someone who knew you well?
--I can't see myself getting spanked by someone I don't know at all, and Master wouldn't allow that.
Would you rather be spanked by despotic, mean person or by a compassionate, benevolent person?
--Master is compassionate
Would you rather be talked to while you are spanked or no talking at all?
--hmmm. talking I think...especially dirty talking *swoons*
Would you rather get one swat at a time with pauses to let the sting set in or a continuous tanning to build up the fire?
--I like both. I really can't choose.
Would you rather be forced into a spanking or willingly submit into a spanking?
--I do not do forced scenes
Would you rather have a safe word or be pushed beyond your preconceived limits?
--I believe in safewords, but I also like to be pushed a little...that is how you grow
Would you rather your spanker know your spanking history or is ignorance bliss?
--Master knows my history pretty well, lol
Would you rather be spanked by multiple people at one time or just by one person at one time?
--never been spanked by multiple people, but I'd love to try...
Would you rather be spanked once a day or once every few months?
--every day. every day. every. day.
Would you rather your spanker be deeply in tune or be totally unaffected to your experience as a spankee?
--in tune. It is so much more of a turn on, to know that my spanking is arousing to the spanker.
Would you rather a closer physical relationship or a closer emotional relationship with your spanker?
--I have an extremely close emotional relationship with Master
Would you rather your spanker ice your bottom down after a spanking or send you to the corner to display his/her accomplishment? corner time then ice
--I don't want to be iced...I want the burn to go on and on...
Would you rather your spanker be the person you wish to live the rest of your life with (i.e. marriage) or the person you can call on when your tushy tickles?
--*blushes* I refuse to answer on the grounds that my answer might incriminate me. lol.
Would you rather spanking be a part of love making or not a part of love making?
--I generally separate play and sex, although play can be sexual, but need not always be.
Would you rather your spanker have total control over you when you are being spanked or do you still want to have some control while you are being spanked?
--I want to be able to express my limits if needed, but that is it
Would you rather be humiliated or respected during your spanking?
--I'm not into humiliation
Would you rather spanking become part of a bigger BDSM alternative lifestyle or spanking just be spanking for spanking sake?
--lifestyle
Would you rather be filmed during a spanking to share your exhibitionist naughtiness or are you too modest to show your bum to the world?
--I've not been filmed, but I've played at a couple of parties, so...
Would you rather your spanking be gentle and gradual or painful and abrupt?
--pain pain pain...any way I can get it, tee hee
Would you rather be defiant or fearful going into a spanking?
--neither? But if I have to choose, then defiant. Fearful is too close to my hard limit on non-consent scenes.
Would you rather be spanked exclusively in your own bedroom or anyplace else other than your own bedroom?
--anywhere, anytime.
Would you rather be spanked exclusively on your bottom or other places could be interesting too?
--anywhere, anytime
Would you rather a spanking be a surprise or be something you have to look forward to?
--I can't choose, either...both...every, all. Any spanking is good in my book (well almost any)
Would you rather spanking be a part of role playing kinkiness or a response to events that have happened in reality?
--I don't often get spanked as punishment, as I enjoy the pain too much for it to be effective. I don't consider Master and my play role playing either.

Bah.

2009-08-19T12:43:00.000-07:00

If you were subjected to my last two ranting posts (now removed), you have my apologies.

Bitter, party of me today, apparently.

2009-08-19T09:33:00.000-07:00

**editor's note** I posted this on Wednesday, but pulled it down as it was kind of emotional, and I'm not fond of being this emo. However, on second glance, I think they were my thoughts at the time. I was also concerned that they would only exacerbate problems that Master and i were having--but we've worked through those coming out stronger at the other end as we always seem to do. He has approved my posting them after i assumed he wouldn't. (and when oh when will I learn to stop making decisions for Him, soon I hope) So...enjoy**

I'm too sensitive. Maybe I'm just too sensitive to be in this lifestyle...sometimes I think so.

Master and I had a great weekend together. I got a lot done around his house, which I love doing...closet organized, bedroom put to order. These seem such little things, but they give me great pleasure to do for him, to help him...to care for him and make his house a home, even if I don't share it with him.

We met with another sub whom we hoped would join us even if just for play. However, it just didn't work out. I think that getting any kind of poly relationship going and keeping it strong is far harder than I ever imagined. And, it drove home to me once again how lucky I am to have found Master. We met on Alt.com, which as I now know...and figured out rather quickly on my own...is full of well, idiots. Not all, obviously, but a good portion of them are wowza...just special. But here is Master--in so many ways perfect for me on a personal level, and also on a D/s relationship level too. He is a sadist, and I am a masochist (oh boy am I), he is intelligent, funny and terribly good looking. He kind of had me pinging at Hello. But therein lies my problem.

I like him, of course. I wouldn't let anyone do some of the things he has done to me if I didn't at least "like" them. But, I'm starting to fall "in like" with him. Which is maybe not good. I don't know.

I try very hard to not have emotions, not put my heart out there, not care about anyone or anything, and that includes me. Harsh maybe, but functional to a point. I don't get hurt, but I don't ever feel truly joyful, or fulfilled either. Risk/Reward, as we say in mmorpg world.
I'm not sure I can take the risk of emotional pain and rejection for the reward that I'm not sure I actually believe exists. I know people fall in love, and are giddy and pooping rainbows and butterflies...at least they seem to be all those things. I don't know that I've ever felt that way. I don't fall hard for the most part, and I don't fall quickly. But. but but but. I think I'm falling, and it scares me to death.

Why?
I don't want to get hurt.
I don't want to hurt him (and I know myself well enough to know that I will do it)
Our personal situations are such that any relationship other than what we have isn't feasible.
I don't want to lose the M/s part of our relationship. I'm worried that if we get too close emotionally, it won't work anymore.

And, I might be too sensitive for all this. I am so focused on him, or serving him and pleasing him that anything feels like a horrible slight. If he isn't home, I'm sure he is angry or at least displeased. Right now, he isn't online as he normally is, and I'm sure he is upset with me.
Why he would be I really don't know, but deep down inside I think he must be. He probably isn't, is probably just busy, and it is incredibly self-centered of me to think everything has something to do with me. But apparently I'm just that self-centered.

And I can't care right now. There is one thing I will not do. Will NEVER do, and that is cry at work. I'm close just due to work stress right now, and I will not do it over this. *stuffs any trace of feelings back in the locker where it belongs*
There. Better. Done.

Trust, learning, emo

2009-08-16T21:03:00.000-07:00

So. I'm a ninny. We already knew that, right?

Long story short, I absolutely underestimated Master, yet again. I give a lot of lip service to how much I trust him, how much I know he cares for me. But when push comes to shove, I don't seem to really believe it.

Soon after I wrote the last post, I broke down and told him what I'd done, and that I'd posted about it. (I can't keep things from him. It is bad for the relationship, and just plain dishonest--and gives me a stomachache every time I try) Far from being angry, or disappointed with me, or even reprimanding me--he was, as I should have known, understanding and supportive, and worried about how upset I was. I was unhappy when he posted the photos, but didn't say anything to him. He was disappointed that I didn't say anything when he posted the pics, as that is a kind of lying. Why didn't I say something? Maybe I was hoping that I'd somehow get more comfortable with it? Not likely.

What I was doing is "people pleasing" him. Because deep down, I still have this fear that if I disappoint him, he will leave. I need to trust him...need to live in this moment, this situation, the here and now--and not live reactively in the past. He can help me, can teach me--has, actually in many many ways. I just have to open myself, let go of my hand hold fall backwards into his arms. He will catch me, I know he will. Every time. No matter how many times I jump.

Uncomfortable

2009-08-15T10:58:00.000-07:00

So. I just did something that I know is going to get me in trouble. I know it is. But I had to.

I got a new play collar, which I adore. It is black leather with a ring set into it, kind of holding the two halves together...it is pretty hot, if I do say so. Master put it on me for the first time yesterday...and it felt so wonderful to have him do so, and wonderful to wear it. He took some pictures of me with it right after receiving it. And, posted them on my fetlife profile. Which I have no problem with--there is nothing I do there that he shouldn't see. I don't keep things from him, that would kind of ruin the relationship.

But. I really hate the pictures. They are unflattering. The one of me in my collar, full face shot I really really hate. I'm starting to cry a little just thinking about that picture. My face is blotchy, I am not at a flattering angle, I just hate it. And the other, was a more revealing shot of me in "down" position...and I hate it even worse. I can't look at my body like that, and the thought that others were just about made me physically ill.

I know that last sounds odd coming from the girl who was naked on the spanking bench at Doug Sir's party last weekend, but somehow having a photo is much worse for me. I just can't do it. I can't. I know what Master is going to say--don't I trust him? Do I really think he'd put a photograph of me online that makes me look bad? Do I think that little of him? And no...I don't. I know he wouldn't do that--he would never. I do trust him, and I know that he thinks I look so much better than I do, and that in the end--it isn't my looks that matter to him.

I know I know I know all of this. But I can't make myself believe it for ME. I'm trying so hard, I really am. I want to be pretty for Master, I want him to be proud of me, to show me off...but I'm just not. I can't believe otherwise yet...and it hurts me, because I know he will be disappointed in me for feeling this way still...after all he has told me to the contrary, all he has shown me with his actions. And I really hate myself right now for this.

At the Center Core

2009-08-06T10:05:00.001-07:00

(okay all, this is my first time posting via email, and this was composed in a car between taking dictated memos, so bear with me, lol)

Pain. What a wonderful, amazing thing our bodies do.

i've always been a pain girl, even when I was much much younger. Through high school, my tummy and thighs were riddled with small bruises from the hard pinches I gave myself near constantly. As I got older, i got a bit more oblique—although never lost my love for pinches. They are still delicious to me, the harder the better.

i knew why i did it—to keep from crying, to calm myself down, to focus my attention, to feel something, anything; and i also knew that it was Wrong. Unnatural. A Sin.

Why? Because it felt good too. Very good.

Raised in an extremely Catholic household, by a woman who had once been in the convent, i didn't get a whole lot of sex ed. Okay, make that none at all. It wasn't until i was in college, an innocent (and naive) thrown to the wolves as it were, that i figured out sex could actually feel good, and that some of those pleasurable things i'd been doing to myself for years were sexual. Bouncing my thighs together to get the pingy feeling in my crotch, the aching burn from horseback riding, the moistening of my panties from the friction and percussion against the leather of the saddle…

And the pain. i started out pulling my own hair during sex to get the stimulation (drunken frat boy sex being generally not-so-tremendously-great) and of course kept with my old favorite, the pinch. It was during this time that i saw my first bdsm images, and was utterly transfixed. Stopped dead in my tracks in the convenience store, staring at the magazine cover featuring a girl with a ball gag in her mouth and the word OBEY written on her nearly naked chest.

i knew. i knew right then, i wanted to be that girl.

Having no idea how to become that girl, and pretty certain that my desire to do so was a Deadly Sin of some manner or other, i tried to ignore it. Stuffed it way down inside, behind the bad sexual experiences, under the confusion and the loneliness, beneath the bad body image (although looking back, i was kind of hot back then…) locked away where i couldn't poke at it, feel it, think about it…where I could pretend i was a Normal Good Girl who didn't think such awful dirty things.

Except it didn't work. i still felt that way. i still wanted to be tied up, smacked around and used. Hard.

i know now, having delved into this world of kink, that it is not only what i want, but what i need. i need to be forced back into my place—forced roughly and repeatedly to behave. I need to know that someone cares enough about me to smack me back into line. i need the pain, the glowing beautiful pain that fills me with warmth and pleasure to punctuate my experiences, to punctuate my life.

A farewell

2009-08-05T09:38:00.000-07:00

I just got dumped. Well, that isn't exactly true. I was really dumped over a week ago, but he didn't have the guts to tell me. (not by my Master, by my boyfriend)

Actually, he still hasn't. He just emailed me. I got dumped via email.

And it hurts. I know he never stopped loving his ex, and I knew this day would come. Even so, I'm heartbroken--trying to put on the brave face, but it still hurts.
So, our relationship started with a poem my darling dear, and I shall end it with one--you'll never read this, but if I could Steve, I'd tell you I miss you, and always will.

Farewell My Mage

You must go.
I know
You must heed her call.
I know

She is your Practical Magic
called from your soul, heart, desire
I am but a conjurer's trick
Fleeting nymph enticing in the moonlight.

She is solid, storied as all of Ireland
I am but a dusky intriguing vapor.

Farewell then my dear,
I once held your imagination for a moment.
She holds your hand, holds your heart, holds you.

Scary Things

2009-08-02T13:35:00.000-07:00

Re-reading that last whinefest of a post....wow. Super self-indulgent there, sorry.

But, it made me think a bit. And i think the thing that frightens me most, that i'm least able to handle is having needs that i can't fulfill myself--that i have to trust others to fulfill.
And it scares the holy hell out of me. i've always been a island unto myself. Zero trade deficit. If i can't do it myself, i don't need it.

And now, and now--i realize i do have needs that i alone can't meet. i do have desires that i can't fulfill, i do have to trust at least one someone with them, and that may be the most difficult thing i've ever had to do.

i need to be put in my place. i need to be stopped from pushing people away when i get too involved. i need someone to give me the pain and dominance from which these flow.

i hate it. Feeling like an empty echoing hall, waiting on razor's edge for relief, unable to help myself. To me it feels like weakness, feels like failure--but also and more frightening, feels like surrender, feels like trust, feels like submission, feels like love. To get these things, i need to open, to invite, to expose myself in trust and peace. i don't know if i can do it. i truly don't know.

Highs and Lows

2009-08-02T12:38:00.001-07:00

Last night i attended my first ever play party.
Wowza, is really all i can say.

Such nice people, funny intelligent and kinky as all get out. Some geeks too...i'm in heaven.

Got to watch some really neat stuff--fire play, the first time i've ever seen it. It was beautiful to watch, just beautiful...the blue and white flames were such a lovely contrast to her white skin. I'm still apprehensive about trying it, but it certainly is no longer on my Not Hard But Relatively Firm limits list. Did see a little bit of needle play, and again i am intrigued. Very squeamish and apprehensive, but intrigued.

And, i participated in my first party scene. Just the dom and i and a friend to keep an eye on me and make sure i was okay. It was wonderful. He is truly a sadist, and i am more certain that ever that i am indeed a pain girl. An all around wonderful evening, with people who managed to put even me at ease just about instantly--no small feat, mind you.

And then, the Low.
I have continued my recent trend of alienating people about whom i care deeply. i've come to grips with the fact that my Steve is gone...and i may never speak to him again. i wish both him and her nothing but the best--i care far too much for him to ever wish him ill. He has to do what is right for him. He never, not for one moment stopped loving her, and i knew that going into the relationship. May gods smile on both of them, and help me find some balm for my broken heart.

My best friends are distancing themselves from me since the end of my marriage. i understand this, they don't know what to think--and i know they think i've either lost my mind or had a midlife crisis, but nothing could be further from the truth. Every marriage has two sides: inside and outside. From the outside we looked happy and solid. And, in some ways we were. He is truly a great guy in many respects--intelligent, a wonderful writer, funny, opinionated, geeky. But then there is the inside part--the part where i was a mother, not a wife, where he made no decisions, didn't work, kept me prisoner to his many, many "issues" and left me exhausted, feeling martyred and empty.

And now, i have upset Master. i know i have, i can hear it in his tone, can feel it. i feel so lost, so alone and so very sorry, but i don't know how to make it up to Him. So much of my world does revolve around Him. it is twisting in my gut like a knife to think that i have disappointed him, and that He too may leave me. My game friends would say i'm being emo--and they are probably right. But it hurts, it adds to the big pile of hurt i already had, and i feel like i'm pushing far past my limit for emotional pain.

I say this. The first 40 years of my life were about other people--putting up with, and taking care of my jerk of a father until his death, raising my sisters, caring for my mother, coddling my husband and boss. It might be selfish, might be a mid-life crisis, i have no idea. What i do know is that the next 40 years are going to be about me. i have needs, i have desires, i am more than my martyrdom to family. And i am going to learn how to live at last, to truly fully be present and alive--and i now know that submission and pain are a large part of that. i never feel more present, more "in" my body--fully there than when i'm taking pain. i can feel every single cell, every inch of my flesh, every nerve ending and synapse firing. In those moments, those still quiet moments, i am. i am. i am.

Weekend

2009-07-30T19:26:00.000-07:00

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.

Giving and Serving

2009-07-27T18:28:00.000-07:00

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.

A poem to begin

2009-07-19T22:16:00.000-07:00

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.