Topping from the Bottom

How often have we heard this phrase? How often has it been used as a tool to denigrate another? "You're not very submissive, you're topping from the bottom."

Well, it can also be used as a tool to point out controlling behavior that one might not otherwise be aware of.

It was used to point out some of my behavior Friday night by a dominant friend of ours. At first I felt kind of defensive, how dare he say such a thing to me? I mean, I'm the best slave I can be aren't I? Then I calmed down and realized he wasn't saying it to be snarky or to put me down. He was just pointing out something that I do without even thinking which is kind of ironic because what I am doing is thinking.

We'd been talking about a play rape scene for me, he was rather into the idea with Master's permission, and I was thinking about all the possibilities and the practicality of what he was suggesting. It's what I do, I think things through, overthink them really. I plan and plot and like to figure out all the unknowns so I'm prepared for whatever might happen. In other words, I don't like to let go and just let things happen. I maintain some control in my planning.

He told me to stop, I couldn't plan it all out because that's topping from the bottom. It may not seem so but it is, for me. I do plan things out as a means of keeping control. I don't like to do anything unless I know all the details, if something unknown happens, I don't take it well.

Hmm. Lots to think about. I told him that I can't stop thinking, there are only two occasions when I stop thinking, when I'm aroused beyond a certain point, and when I'm taken past a certain point with pain play. Other than that, I think, during a mild flogging I sort of step outside my body and think "What's he using? Is that the rope or the suede?"

I don't know how to stop thinking, I've tried meditation and end up thinking through the whole thing even though I've tried to just let the thoughts go. I've mentally chided myself for thinking, tried to clear my mind... even during guided meditations stray thoughts will wend their way into my consciousness.

It's no wonder I don't feel very slave-like sometimes, I'm busily planning and controlling everything.

Irrational Anger

So yesterday I had what amounts to a fit over something pretty minor. While Master was retrieving his glasses from the shelf over the commode a few of my hair ties and such got knocked into the commode.

It really upset me because I don't have that many and it's taken a while to get them because I don't ask very often for little things. I wouldn't hear of washing them off and just told him to throw them away. It may seem silly but there are bacteria that live in toilets, even the cleanest of toilets, and thinking about wearing things in my hair that had been in the toilet was just disgusting.

I ended up blaming him for being careless and in general making him feel badly for something that was an accident. I felt as if he'd been ignoring everything I said simply because he felt he knew better. To explain, I close the lid on the toilet before I get into the shower or whenever I'm going to be getting anything off the shelf as a means of preventing accidents like what happened yesterday. I have asked him several times to close the lid before he gets into the shower and every time, he leaves the lid up. (yeah I know, I should close the lid if I want it closed) Obviously, as his slave I should be closing that toilet lid but as his wife I feel like it's a matter of common courtesy. So, I have a hard time separating the two and shutting the wife side up.

I really got on a tirade that I shouldn't have even started, it was unfair and simply uncalled for. I realized that after I'd calmed down and we talked about it. Feel like a jerk? Me? Yep.

I'm really trying to learn how to not blow minor things up into major things. It's really a credit to Master that he didn't jump to the defensive and kept things from getting worse. He's become a calming influence which is really something considering how hot his temper once was.

I feel like a complete a$$ and would like to formally apologize to him. I am sorry Master for being a jerk, it was an accident and I shouldn't have reacted the way I did.

What If?

It isn't something I like to think about often but it has come up in more than one place and that alone is enough to make me stop and think.

What if something happens to Master? What if the unthinkable happens and we actually split up or he decided to release me and wanted to live only as a vanilla couple?

What would I do? How would I cope?

I'd like to believe that we'll be together until we're both old and wrinkled and that we'll die together. Of course I've also told Master and M that he's not allowed to die without my permission and obviously I'd never grant him permission to die.

Neither Master nor I are certain that we'd survive the loss of the other. We're so much a part of each other that we're interdependent and interconnected. We've grown up together, quite literally. We came together as teenagers and spent the last of our teenage years living together as a couple and as parents. We've been through quite a bit as a couple, betrayals, affairs, addiction, we've survived it all and come out stronger and more committed to each other as a result. That isn't to say that we don't have our days where we want to throw in the towel but we're both too stubborn to actually do it. *wry grin*

Because of this we're both pretty certain that nothing short of death will separate us. I know, never say never, but if you knew the details of our history... we've survived a lot together and feel like there isn't much we couldn't survive.

So, in the event of his death if I managed to survive it, I've got a good support system consisting of M, m'Lady, and our good friends J and his girl mist. Actually, I don't think they'd let me curl up and die. I believe they'd be there to support Master in the event of my death as well. They're more than friends, they're family.

I don't think I could walk away from the lifestyle and I don't think Master would want me to give up that part of myself because of his death. I think the best testament to him would be to live well and to celebrate life.

So, I'd mourn him, I'd grieve for however long it takes. Then I'd pick myself up and learn to live again.

But, as I said, this is something I really don't like to think about often, it always makes me sad to think about losing him. Ten lifetimes probably wouldn't be enough time to have with him. So, I don't think about it, instead I treasure every moment I have with him. But I do know what would happen if... I'm provided for, I'd have a cushion while I mourned, and I'd have the best support a girl could ask for.

Can't Sleep

I tried to, I really gave it an honest try, but I couldn't sleep. I'm tired too. Not fair.

Maybe I shouldn't have read vampire erotica before trying to go to sleep? All I could think of was hot monkey sex with one of my males, or both. Greedy? Yes I am and not too proud to admit it. I have terrible timing though. Master was feeling frisky before bedtime and I was still feeling less than friendly so I took care of his needs and sent him off to sweet slumber while I read a book. What was I thinking?? Now I get to spend the next who knows how long waiting for some satisfaction.

I'm constantly drawn back to a couple of nights ago. We were in bed, Master and I, and neither of us were feeling very amorous so he laid there trying to fall asleep and I read a book. Suddenly a storm rolled in and it was a doozy. Lightning that dazzled the eyes and thunder that rocked the windows. Master started cozying up to me, or maybe I cozied up to him, I can't remember. All I remember for sure is his warm breath on the back of my neck teasing and promising. He took the time to push the right buttons, kissing the back of my neck and shoulders, stroking my breasts, all while I reach back with one hand and stroke his cock. That has got to be, by far, my favorite form of foreplay. We worked ourselves up to a fever pitch and tossed back the covers. I reached over to shut off the lamp and asked him to open the blinds a little. Just as the storm was building up to full strength we started working up to our own crescendo. He laid on his side with me on my back and he slid into me with ease while I grabbed the pocket rocket, I wanted to come on his cock. He stroked slowly inside me while I frantically worked my clit. I was anxious for it, my need was so great. His orgasm came first with mine following closely on its heels as I begged "Pleasepleaseplease stay there". Soon I thrashed around and rocked back and forth on his cock which sent him into further paroxysms of pleasure as my cunt clenched around his extremely sensitive cock.

There's nothing quite like sex during a nighttime thunderstorm if you ask me. *G*

Of course retelling this doesn't help me one iota. Horny and can't sleep because of it? Remember the last great sex you had and talk about it. Yeah, that helps. NOT! lol

Ahh well, perhaps I should go give sleep another try.

Feeling Irritable

I feel irritable right now. I want silence, solitude, to be alone. But no, they have to be here, they have to talk to me even after I've said "Please leave me be, I'm writing something." No, they don't understand personal space or boundaries. Mom is supposed to be available 24/7 no matter what.

So, I deal and I don't snap at them, I just sigh that heavy sigh, you know the one, the one that says "I really don't want to do this", and I answer them, make conversation and try to continue to write.

That's one of the downfalls of having the computer in the living room, no privacy. No privacy is also a downfall of summer break. Year round school, I demand it! *ggg*

Talking about the cutting and other past issues has left me kind of introspective yet irritable. When I talk about these things I remember them, vividly. I have physical memory, my body remembers what it felt like to self-harm, my mind remembers the emotions I had. It felt good, I felt powerful, and sometimes I miss it.

I'm seriously considering kneeling in the bedroom with the canes in my hands when Master gets home from work tonight. I want the pain, I need it. Does that make me addicted to the pain? Perhaps. Does that make my coping mechanisms immature? Yeah, likely. I can live with that. I am who I am not despite my experiences but because of them. The early neglect and abuse shaped me into a self-reliant, independent person. The sexual abuse tempered me much like the flame tempers steel, it hardened my will to survive and showed me that I should be careful with my trust. The self-injury showed me that there are things I can control. Master is the one who taught me the self-injury hurt others and helped me find other ways of coping.

Still. Still I feel selfish at times and want to cope with things the way I want to cope with them. Sometimes I just want to feel the pain. *shrug* It's just part of who I am, how I'm wired.

It's really odd too because today has been a good day. I passed the physical exam for the job I'd applied for and at the second interview earlier this week I was offered the job if I passed the test. Sometimes there is no rhyme or reason for my moods I guess.

I am having fun with these avatars though. They really brighten up my blog and put just that little bit more expression into it.

Masochism, Self-Mutilation, and Disassociation

Yeah, it's a heavy post today. There was a question asked on the owners and slaves list about cutters and masochism that got me to thinking a lot.

This reminds me of something else that's been percolating in my brain, subspace as a means of disassociation. Many s-types have written or talked about how they float off somewhere else mentally and are no longer aware of what is happening to their bodies. I've seen people actually pass out/lose consciousness during SM play. I'd like to know the why of it, the how of it. You see, I've always been mentally and physically present during SM play. I like the way I process pain and can't imagine ever not being present to experience it.

I haven't disassociated since I was a really young child, I was about 7 I think. It was after my grandmother died and Reality (I use capital R-eality to describe what we experience as a group and little r-eality to describe what we experience individually) was less than pleasant. I was left with a mother who didn't want me so I divorced myself from Reality and lived my own reality. It was bad enough that I was sent to a special school where they combined therapy and education. Since then I have been hmm, hyper present. I can't divorce myself from what is going on around me despite wanting to sometimes.

This is an across the board sort of thing, I've never experienced that floaty headspace that I've seen and heard talked about. Nor have I ever lost consciousness as I've seen others do. Mind you, I'm not putting down their experiences, I'm actually fascinated by them. I'd like to know the how and the why of it as much as I'd like to know the how and the why of my experiences.
------
As long as I've been in the Lifestyle, admittedly a short 6 years, there has been discussion about the link between self-mutilation and masochism. If there is a link, then how do we explain those who have never self-mutilated? I was a self-mutilater, even as an adult, and I'm also a masochist. I began to feel like trying to figure out if there was a link, or not, was similar to a dog chasing its tail. The self-mutilation and masochsim, for me, have different motivators but I do think that the self-mutilation might have been a symptom of the masochism. Of course psychiatric professionals might disagree with me, I don't know.

Our son came to me one day and asked me "Is it wrong to like pain?" and I told him that no, it wasn't wrong it was just the way he was wired. It may be simplistic but it feels true to me.

Fear

Yesterday was scary, today continues to be scary. I've got a bladder infection that I've had since the end of June. I've been treated twice before with the one antibiotic I'm not allergic to. It wasn't effective. The first time I was only given a 5 day course, that wasn't enough. Then I was given a 10 day course which I finished last week.

I hadn't felt quite right since finishing the meds and yesterday the symptoms got strong enough to send me off to the doctor. The doctor looked at me and said "I don't know what to do for you." He was referring to the fact that I was allergic to the only meds that are used for treating bladder and urinary tract infections. The one that I'm not allergic to isn't as effective and is a last choice.

We talked about my reactions to each of the drugs and there is one that I only had an itchy rash with, the rest I had anaphylactic (hives and breathing difficulty) reactions to. So, here I am today on the one that gave me a rash. I have to keep an eye on my body and I've got Benedryl on hand.

It's scary knowing that I could end up with an infection that can't be treated. What happens then? What will they do? I'm extremely susceptible to bladder and urinary tract infections and I'm doing everything I can to prevent them. I'm getting to the point that I'm almost paranoid to have any sort of penetrative sex because that can cause infections for me, even with all necessary precautions.

I told Master about the med situation yesterday and he was concerned and told me we'd be watching me closely. I told M to and he kept asking over and over again, "You've told the doctor you're allergic to this medication right?" Right now, taking the medication is the lesser of two evils and that's the point I had to make to everyone, including the pharmacist. I haven't yet told m'Lady and I'm hoping I get the chance to do so today.

I think the point was finally driven home yesterday, I've got to get to an allergist to be sure I'm definitely allergic to these drugs and if I am, I need to either find a way to get desensitized to them or start bugging someone to find alternative medications. This is the first time that the medication I was taking hasn't worked. So yeah, I'm finally worried.

Correction

One of my biggest failings as a slave, and possibly as a wife, is that I correct him whenever I think he is wrong. How presumptuous and rude is that?

I don't do it to lord anything over him, not even to show superiority. It is done without thought, instinctively. I see that as a huge failing in myself as a slave. The smart alec remarks he forgives, he expects and dare I say it, enjoys them. We've always sparred verbally, it's playful and fun for us. However, he doesn't enjoy my corrections and I need to learn to stop making them without his permission.

I tried once today, I caught myself and asked if I could make a suggestion. It seemed to go well, he granted permission for my suggestion, I made it and that was that. No tension, no feeling as if I were stepping on his toes after that tight look he gets around his eyes when I've irritated him.

I need to remember that he doesn't need my correction and to correct him is disrespectful. I like the idea of asking permission to make suggestions and I think he liked it when I did so today.

It would be ideal if he could discipline me when I overstep my bounds but given that there are always little eyes around watching us it isn't normally possible. By the time we are alone I think we're both ready for a bit of sex and sleep and neither of us is thinking about discipline. I'm sure that's the last thing he wants to do before bed, it would only serve to wind him up instead of relax him.

That makes things really difficult and I guess that's where I start feeling unslavelike. I have to be self-correcting/disciplining so much of the time. I don't mean that I shouldn't have self-discipline and self-control but his discipline of me helps to reinforce things. I'm having a hard time coming up with a good analogy for this. I guess I'd liken it to animal training, whenever there's a behavior you want to teach or deter you have to spend a certain amount of time reinforcing commands and rewarding appropriate behavior. After a while, the animal is able to act and react as expected almost instinctively. I want to be well-trained like that but I can't train myself.

We need to have a chat I think.

Friday Night

Last night was and wasn't, everything we'd hope it would be. We spent a good part of the time just chatting up with friends which was really nice. I felt a tension headache budding midway through the evening and I knew it didn't bode well but tried to ignore it and hoped it'd go away.

Finally Master decided we should go downstairs. After we went into the medical room he started laying things out in preparation for piercing me. That's when the serious nerves hit. I was reluctant to undress, I kept hoping he was just playing with my mind. But, he ordered me to remove my top and bra. I did as I was told and after a couple of nice kisses from him, I climbed up onto the gyno table. I wanted to sit upright but he told me to lean back. I was really nervous then.

When he came at me with the needle I was ready to bolt. The thought of getting up and running from the room did cross my mind but I couldn't make myself do it. He wanted this and I wanted to give it to him. I think I whimpered "nonono" just as he started pushing the needle through. I couldn't think beyond that. As the needle continued its slow journey through my nipple I kept up a litany of "Ohsh*tf*cknosh*tsh*tshi*t" It burned and burned, and continued to burn even after it was all the way through.

Master brought my hand to his groin to show me just how much he enjoyed it. I was happy about that but couldn't think past the burning in my nipple. It didn't ease up until a minute or so before he removed it. He wanted to do the other nipple but I told him that the first one was an icky pain. He told me I could beg him to not do the other one and I asked "Will it help if I do?" *chuckles* I know where I stand.

He decided to not do the other one, he doesn't really like to inflict pain if it's truly not good pain.

He'd planned to play with me more a little later on so we went out and socialized some more. Finally he decided we'd play, but we kept socializing. I thought it meant that he didn't want to play which, at that point was fine with me. The headache had gotten worse and I didn't think I'd be able to find my groove if we did play. However, he wanted to try so I was game. He decided that he wanted to play in the other room and had me schlep all our gear to that room. Then he said "No, let's go to the other room" so I had to schlep everything back again. He did this a couple of times and I began to get a little cranky. My head hurt, my back was starting to hurt from all the standing I'd been doing, and our gear is heavy which made my back ache more.

He was talking with m'Lady about how fun it was to make me tote the gear back and forth and my mouth ran without my thinking about it. I said "Sure, I can do this all night if you don't want to do anything else." I knew as soon as I said it I was wrong. He looked at me with that look he gets, the one that says I've overstepped my bounds, and told me that perhaps I needed punished. I quickly qualified what I'd said and let him know that I'd be useless if I kept it up.

He decided to have me move the gear to the other room, the one with a bed, and there we set up to play. I'd like to say the play went great but it didn't. I couldn't find my groove and I kept getting angry at everything he was doing. I got angrier and at one point I was just this side of getting up and hitting him. Not good.

Not long after that I couldn't catch my breath, I was breathing too fast and I got overheated. He called a halt and between him and m'Lady, they got me some water. I laid there for a while regained control of my breathing while cooling off. I felt like such a git. Why couldn't I just relax and let go? I think the headache was a good part of it, I was extra sensitive to everything and my pain tolerance goes to heck when I've got one.

I feel bad for my open defiance last night. I can say some pretty stupid things sometimes.

On the drive home I told Master that I thought maybe we should try the nipple piercing again when I don't have a headache. Maybe I can get into it if my head doesn't hurt. He thinks I'm crazy. *smiles*

What does it mean?

I woke up this morning to a post-it left on my monitor that read:

Joy,

I love you.

Me

It could just be a simple love note. But it could be more. It could be him saying "I love you but I'm still going to hurt you tonight."

Yeah, I'm suspicious. It's the mindf*cks, I'm telling you, they make one analyze everything, every word, every gesture, for hints of something more, clues that this is or isn't a mindf*ck. I'm sure he'll chuckle when he reads this and take it as evidence of a mindf*ck well done.

I'm not saying that I doubt his sincerity, that is never in question, ever. What is in question are the things he says he will or won't do to me. He likes to keep me guessing and, for the most part, I play along quite nicely. Though part of me is always suspicious and the other part is accepting; if it happens it happens and if it doesn't, that's cool too. I have a lot of parts to me. *chuckles*

I wonder if he was thinking of this very reaction when he wrote and left this little note. I think, knowing him and the hour he wrote it, he was just thinking of me and wanted to leave a note telling me so.

Whatever the reasons, I have just a few short hours to prepare myself for him, physically and mentally. These hours, this day, they're not mine, they're his. They'll all be spent in preparation for his pleasure. I never really thought I'd ritualized preparing my body for his use but, I have. There is a distinct pattern, a routine, and my mind is always on the outcome. Every little thing has to be perfect (in my mind) for him. I start with my toenails, polishing them and letting them dry before I move on to shaving and showering. Then it's a combination of doing my hair and make-up, getting dressed, and being sure the toy bag has everything he might want in it. I prepped the medical bag earlier in the week so no worries about that.

I admit, I look forward to and love the prep time. Even if it is a little stressful near the end and I get a little snippy (cranky) I love being able to stand before him and say "How do I look?" His answer may be short and to the point "Fine" I know he appreciates what he sees, I know that everything that should be, is smooth and hairless as he likes it. I know that I've pleased him and that, ultimately, is my goal.

Interview Update

Well, I had my first interview today. I think the interview went really well. I just relaxed and chatted the interviewer up as if he were just a regular person and not the person who could keep me from getting the job. I let my typing skills and my education do the selling.

So, now I have to pass a background check. If I pass that they'll likely call me back for a second interview and a physical. The physical includes testing for repetitive motion injuries. If mine show up, they won't hire me. Yes, I know it's unethical to not mention that I'd been diagnosed with tendonitis in the past but a.) it's a temp job and b.) I don't intend to make a career of it even if they did decide they wanted to keep me.

So, I'm just keeping the crossables crossed that since the tendonitis hasn't really flared up in quite some time, that it won't show up during the test. Oh, and that they get the answers they want from my background/reference check.

I'm tired of feeling bad for not being able to work. I'm tired of feeling useless.

On Pins & Needles

Friday night Master and I are to attend a play party hosted by our good friends J & K. Since the weekend, Master has been talking about play piercing my nipples.

I'm nervous about it. I've been pierced before, both play and permanent, and enjoyed it. For some reason the idea of him doing it has me completely undone. I'm totally vulnerable to him and I think that's why I'm scared, it's not just my body he'll be playing with, it's my mind.

I'd like to believe that he's just mindf*cking me but judging by his obvious excitement each time he talks about it, I don't think he is.

I'd like to say that the only thing I feel is fear and nervousness but that wouldn't be entirely honest. Each time he takes a nipple between his fingers and talks about sticking needles through it, I begin to get aroused. There's something about the intentness of his gaze, the excitement of his body, and the sheer dominance in his voice that makes my body think "Hey this will be great!" My mind, of course, is saying "Are you nuts?!"

It's strange, I'm nervous about it but I'm also sort of anticipating it. I'm not fighting it like I usually would. Normally I'd close up, not admit to my nervousness, and not really participate in the conversation. I think it's his desire and excitement that are drawing me in. I want to give him what he wants. I want to go there with him, wherever 'there' may be. I want to do all this despite my nerves, despite my head telling me it's not such a good idea.

I don't know how I'll react if I find out that he was indeed, mindf*cking me. I think maybe a mix of disappointment and relief.

Wishes Come True

Master read my last blog entry and an e-mail I'd written him on Friday and apparently, took it to heart.

Yesterday afternoon he used me. In the beginning I was present, thinking, turned-on. He came into the bedroom, fresh from the shower, took the book I'd been reading from me and using a fistfull of my hair as a handle, forced my face into his groin.

A wave of electricity crackled through me from my head to my toes and it centered between my legs as he forced his, now erect, cock down my throat. There was much throat f*cking as he slapped my breasts and pinched my nipples so hard I thought he'd rip them off for sure.

He didn't say much to me but that if I couldn't finish him with my mouth, I had another orifice he'd use. I gave what I thought was a valiant effort. I only stopped to clear my throat and sinuses of the saliva that had gathered and made it difficult to breathe or swallow. I was lying on the bed with my head hanging off the edge, in essence, my head was upside down so he could use my mouth more effectively. Eventually he tired of this and that's when things changed.

He ordered me onto my hands and knees on the bed and began talking about how he'd use my bottom instead. I shook, I was afraid because I knew I was unable to take him there. A few tears filled my eyes as he tossed my Pocket Rocket on the bed next to me while commenting that I might need to use it while he used my bottom. At this point rational thought was quickly abandoning me. I didn't move, I didn't take the PR, I didn't even think of using it.

He lubed me up well and slipped a condom on. Then he began the attempt to take me from behind. I tried to hold still, to remain on hands and knees as ordered but my body had other ideas. Each time he began to press into me, I moved forward. And with every attempt I lost more control over myself. I was sobbing into his pillow and begging him to stop. I wasn't thinking, the me that is writing here now was somewhere else, on vacation probably. What was left was the feral, unthinking me, the soft me that wants only to please and feels absolutely wretched when she fails.

I'm not sure why I was crying, the pain wasn't as bad as all that, he hadn't ever gotten more than the head inside. The lubing up hurt more because he used two fingers and was a little rough with them. I just felt utterly broken down, open, at his mercy.

After a couple more attempts he stopped and sat down next to me on the bed, he had me curl up next to him and he began to soothe me and bring me back to myself. It took a good while for me to calm down. I think he was worried that I'd gone into a bad headspace, it's happened once before. The truth is, I was fine, just in that headspace that I go to when he uses me like that.

He soothed me, I calmed down, and we talked. He told me the reason he doesn't use me like that often is because it takes a lot of energy for him to go blank and let the sadist out in that way. I hadn't known. It made me appreciate him and what he'd done even more. I needed that, I needed to be empty of thought, to do nothing more than feel. I wonder if he needed it too.

Being Used

Being used has got to be one of my biggest turn ons. I don't mean the usual he takes his pleasure from me and then drifts off to sleep either.

I like it when he goes all cold and hard, like granite. His eyes are even sharp, brittle...none of the usual warmth. His tone of voice is edged, hard, no emotion. His touches are even hard, his hands feeling like iron in my hair or wrapped around my throat. And the words he says, O the words. Harsh, cruel, guttural comments meant to break me down. It isn't long before I do break and the tears well up in my eyes while, simultaneously, my juices flow below.

This is the only time I actually feel a spark of fear. It's at this time that I feel he truly could kill me and not feel a bit of remorse and it turns me on. Using my body I beg him to go as far as he is able with it. I offer myself up to him as wholly as I am able.

I've been thinking about, craving, being used by him like this again. I can't seem to get it out of my mind today. I'm trying, goodness knows I have loads of things to do, but I can't stop thinking and shivering at the images playing out in my mind. There's a throbbing warmth between my legs that just can't be ignored.

I sent him an e-mail telling him that I was thinking of him and what I was thinking. I wonder what his reaction tonight will be when he reads it. I'll likely be sitting nearby watching, waiting, hoping.

I can't explain why it turns me on so, it just does and I've had the best orgasms of my life during such use. I do like being pushed to a point where I can do nothing but react, I like being reduced to an unthinking state, to only feeling and reacting. I'm left limp and wrung out afterwards and eager for the cuddling and stroking that often happens. I think we both need it after such an intense experience.

It's been such a long, long, time since he's done that, used me in that way. I wonder why.

Possible Relief

I got a bit of good news/hope in my business inbox last night. I've been invited for an interview next week for a job I'd applied for.

I was absolutely giddy after I read the e-mail. A shout of "YEAH!" slipped out before I caught myself. I don't usually shout out like that but, well, one little shout is OK. I looked sheepishly at Master after doing it, not that he'd mind, and said "I got an interview!" He looked as relieved as I felt.

If I can manage to get the job it will make things MUCH easier. Initially it will be rough, the first two weeks are spent in training from 3 p.m. to 11 p.m. M-F. After that I can opt to work 3-7 p.m. which would be more ideal. I'd be able to be here during the day and again in the evening and still bring in some money.

I'm a bit worried about the training period. I know I'm going to hurt, probably a lot. I hate pain that isn't the fun kind, the kind that will stop when Master's had enough. It became my existence not so long ago, it consumed my life and took a lot of the joy out of it. So yeah, I'm scared of that happening again but the need for $$ far outweighs those fears, for now.

Watch this spot, I'm supposed to interview Tuesday afternoon and I'm sure I'll have something to say afterwards. *chuckles*

Right now I'm just happy that they're giving me a chance, that I've got a chance to give Master some stress relief. That feels really good.

Busy Holiday Weekend

Our weekend was a busy, hectic, emotionally draining one. We managed to catch three fireworks shows. *grins* There was one downtown, one at the mall near us, and one in our suburb. HRS got to see all three with us, Zboy chose to not go at all, and Little Miss Raincloud saw the show in our suburb with us. I got a bit choked up during the visit to the mall, before the fireworks there was a piano concert. As part of the concert they played and sang the national anthem and everyone present stood and turned to the flag. I'm not particularly patriotic but I do love my country, I just don't like the government.

I think this weekend both Master and myself hit our limit with stress and everything came to a head. This is a Good Thing™. We finally communicated with each other and I found out why I was feeling so disconnected from him as a wife and as a slave.

Master has been working anywhere between 48-60 hours a week to make ends meet with a little left over for enjoyment. He has combined work and home stress, it's a wonder the man hasn't spontaneously combusted. I think the fact that he hasn't is a tribute to his amazing willpower.

I still haven't been able to find a temp part-time job which has left me feeling useless. I've been stressing over all the bills and feeling guilty because of being short on money. Friday I snapped and really lost my mind, saying things that I didn't mean and in general, acting like a total git. Saturday Little Miss Raincloud came home for a month (she'd been spending the summer with a friend whom she plans on living with in a few months). LMR and Master had a bit of a falling out Saturday evening and the rest of the weekend with her was tense because LMR holds grudges, much like her mother. *wry grins*

Everything finally came to a head Monday, I spent most of it in a depressed funk crying. Master sent me an e-mail, we hadn't been able to communicate verbally without misunderstandings. After reading his e-mail the floodgates crashed open, I sent him a return e-mail and was as honest and transparent as I knew how to be. It wasn't easy, I didn't want to burden him with my worries. Sometimes I forget that we're in this together and if we work together, the burdens aren't as heavy.

After he'd read my e-mail, we talked and apologized to each other. Yesterday things felt normal. Better than normal in fact. In opening up to him I found that connection I thought I'd lost. Truth is, I didn't lose it, there was merely a blockage because I wasn't open with him. Much like a garden hose, if there's a blockage things don't flow smoothly.

I think he and I both learned some good lessons this weekend and I believe it's brought us closer together.

Today, life is good. I'm getting caught up on chores I'd let slide during my funk and reading things that are slavery affirming yet make me think. I'm feeling a little less burned out than I had been feeling and that's something to celebrate. ;-)

She's Lost Her Mind

I'm sure Master thought I'd lost my mind yesterday when I snapped. It was a totally unconscious thing for me, it just happened. I was doing our checkbook and found that we're $22 short. I wasn't expecting it and from the online statement it looked as if he'd made a withdrawl that he hadn't told me about.

In my defense, I've been under a lot of stress regarding money and feeling downright useless in terms of helping to alleviate some of the money issues. This isn't an excuse or a justification for my behavior. I shouldn't have reacted the way I did, I stepped outside of myself mentally and just watched the exchange knowing it was ridiculous but being helpless to stop it.

My snapping led to Master snapping and we ended up having a pretty nasty fight with lots of hurtful things being said. After our anger was spent we came back to ourselves and realized just how silly it all was. It's really silly to argue over $22, y'know?

We apologized and made up and the rest of the evening was pretty nice. Though I was a little controlling, trying to direct Master's driving. I've got to learn to let go. One of these days it will sink in.

Yesterday's fight seemed to fit right in with all the disjointed feelings I've been having. I've been feeling less connected to Master than usual and that usually results in me floating on up to a Top space where I'm unbearable and bossy. I think, what I need, is a tighter leash. Or maybe I just need a good solid kick in the butt.

It's really hard to find a balance between his slave and the kids' mom. Especially when I'm the kids' mom all day long and I *have* to live in that Top space for so many hours. I've never been very good about finding balance, too much all or nothing thinking going on.

My submission isn't the only thing that seems to be out of control these days, I've lost control over my eating too. Or maybe it'd be more appropriate to say I've given up control? I know what I'm doing when I buy the junk food, I know I shouldn't. Still, I do it. It's the same with the fight yesterday. I knew I shouldn't behave that way but I didn't stop myself.

I need to feel controlled and in control again but I don't know where to start. I don't know what will or won't help and I'm worried that Master doesn't know either.

All I do know is that I'm committed to him and to this relationship and there's got to be a way to make it all work.