Daddy's Lil Girl

It was the first time in quite a while that Daddy and his lil girl got to play and we made the most of it. We'd been talking about it for weeks, rather I'd been asking him for some Daddy/lil girl time and he'd said "Yeah let's do it sometime." During the last conversation we had about it he told me some very specific things that he wanted to do and wear for that time. Well, as it would happen I ended up with a weekday off (yesterday) and made all the preparations so that I'd be ready if he was up for it.

When he got home yesterday evening he said he was too tired to do much of anything. I did my best to not let my disappointment show or ruin the evening. I've been needing Daddy/lil girl time and could probably use a lot more. When I think that it might be a possibility I tend to start slipping into lil girl space, it's hard to prevent it. Hello Kitty is my weakness, as are all things pink and "Princess", in lil girl space. Last week I had to stop at the store and pick up some stain remover. As I was walking past the dollar bins I noticed, yep you guessed it, Hello Kitty stuff. Hair clips, barrettes, pony ties, play jewelry sets, note pads, pens... I was in lil girl overload/heaven. I wanted everything! It was only a dollar each and a dollar isn't much, right? I got a package of pony ties (pink of course with Hello Kitty heads on two of them) and a package of clippy barrettes (also pink w/HK heads on two of them). It's funny just how happy that small $2 purchase made me. When I got home I laid them proudly on my side of the bed for Daddy to see.

Unfortunately he wasn't as thrilled about my purchase as I was, or as I'd thought he would be. I'd made a purchase without permission. *sigh* He wasn't angry but he wasn't happy either and it took a lot of the wind out of my sails. I felt about two inches tall and felt like I'd never have an occasion to wear my new HK hair stuff. Don't ask me how or why but it felt to me as if it wasn't the measely (to me) two dollars I'd spent without permission that he was upset about but the fact that I'd bought something for my inner kid. Sometimes I think he doesn't want or need to be my Daddy any more and when he got upset about the purchase it sort of cemented my perception, proved that I was "right" that he didn't want to be my Daddy and that he didn't want me to be his, or anyone's, lil girl.

Then, later last night he managed to get "in the mood" and sent me upstairs to do my hair and put on a little make-up. Yes, Daddy's lil girl gets to wear make-up like the big girls do; make-up and pigtails. After I was ready Daddy came upstairs and we had lots of fun together. He made me giggle, blush, sigh, whimper, and blush and giggle some more. I felt like a princess, basking in the warmth of Daddy's love and affection. It ended too soon for me though, it was getting late and we had some grown-up things to take care of before bed. So I had to "grow up" only I didn't really. I was still very open and vulnerable and in lil girl headspace when we went downstairs. He immediately made the phone call he needed to make while I entertained myself with a book. I tried to tune his conversation out, it didn't concern me. But soon it turned to a topic that makes me squirm and get uncomfortable in adult headspace, in lil girl headspace it throws me for a loop. I couldn't tune it out and I started to panic, a whimper slipped out before I could stop it and I covered it up by acting like I was just trying to get comfortable. I don't know why I did that, it doesn't make sense to me now, because I know if I'd let him know it was bothering me he'd have changed the topic, moved to another room, or even have sent me on up to bed to read.

Part of me wished he'd noticed, the part that still needed her Daddy's attention, but the adult part of me didn't want to disturb his conversation and didn't want to make demands on his time. He's been so stressed out and upset, I don't want to add to it. Everyone has a breaking point and I don't want my personal drama to push him to his. My discomfort is an old story, and old wound, and in adult headspace I know how to take care of myself. I'm fine but I'm still feeling somewhat lil. If I think about it I guess I always have a hard time "growing up", it always feels abrupt to me when it's time to do so. I suppose it would be similar to being pulled out of the floaty "sub space" I've seen some write about before you're ready to come out of it.

It just takes time. During this time I do things to take care of myself. I watch "kid" movies, I have my favorite toys close to hand, yet I continue on with and move into more adult thinking and activities. I don't fight the transition between the two, I just do things that will smooth the way. My lil headspace isn't something I can put on and take off at will, I do have to transition into and out of it, this takes time. I suppose that's why it feels so jarring, I'm expecting to be able to do it quickly and I'm still surprised when I can't. I'm hoping Master will read this because I'm not sure he understands that. Last night I felt like he expected me to go from lil girl headspace to adult headspace like you'd flip a switch. One minute lil girl the next minute adult. I don't know if that's what he does but it sure seems like it. When he's got other things to do the Daddy part of him just disappears and I wonder if I imagined it all because it happens so fast. It's very frustrating and sometimes upsetting when i'm still in lil girl space and he's tucked his Daddy space away. It feels as if there's an almost physical barrier that's been erected between us, or a door locked against me. When he's in Daddy space he's so kind and soft and loving, he's open. When he's not in Daddy space, he's still loving and kind, but it's somewhat reserved and he's no longer soft or open. I wish I could explain it better, if I could maybe I could make sense of it and find a way to make it easier to adjust. As it is, I have a hard time understanding. All I know is that my Daddy isn't there anymore and I can't relate (in lil girl space) to the person whose come in his place.

I think I'm going to shelve this for now and will revisit it later. I need to think about it some more.

Long Time No Type

We had such a good day today, with a surprise drop-in from Master, he was supposed to work until 7 this evening but he decided to take off early. The girls and I had planned to put the tree up and decorate it today and since he was home early, before we'd even begun, he sprawled on the couch and watched us. It was good, having him there, sharing that moment with him and with the girls. I had my Christmas CDs playing and I sang along with the tunes as we decorated the tree, every now and then I'd glance over at him and we'd share a smile. We're both moving through our grief, sometimes getting mired in it but still trying to move forward. Hopefully the good days will outnumber the bad days soon.

Most of the time I'm okay but sadness sneaks up on me like the tide rolling in, it comes in, sweeps over me, and ebbs again, leaving me drenched in it. Just as I get dried off it comes again, and again. I can't watch my once favorite TV shows anymore, forensic crime shows I loved but after living it, they're just triggers of things better left unthought.

Sometimes I think I might be depressed but I'm not ready yet to accept that as a viable truth. Mostly I'm just grieving in bits and pieces, when I'm alone. It seems to be my way.

I wanted catharsis but I wasn't able to get it so it all seems to stay locked inside me except for the little leaks, I'm not sure how to let it out now. It's not societally acceptable to break out in tears whenever the urge comes on you know. So I bite them back, breathe deeply, and force my thoughts in a different direction when I'm able. Sometimes I can almost convince myself that it was just a bad dream, not real. Then I remember, I remember how he died, the violence of it, I picture the scene as it must have been, then I flash on him in his casket, Master patting his chest, soothing, consoling, trying to convince himself of the reality of it. It aches and no medication in the world can ease it. It's a wound that has to heal on its own, in its own time. I just wish I could get rid of the mental pictures, unknow the things I know.

I got the job I interviewed for the day his brother was found. It seems strange to me, to have this positive thing happen at the same time as this horrible thing. Once the initial excitement of being offered the job wore off I started having a hard time feeling happy about having a new job. I'm not looking forward to learning something new, I'm looking forward to making more money and having better benefits. It doesn't much matter right now what I do for a living, I'm not really there, I'm not really involved. So, in two weeks I start a new job, another ending and another beginning. Life is filled with them and it seems to me that the beginnings will always be somewhat darkened by the endings and maybe that's how it should be. It makes one more mindful that in order for one thing to begin another must end. The old makes way for the new, but one should never forget the old, the old paved the way, helped to shape the future you.

I don't know what the future holds, I'm almost scared to find out. Call me cautious, experience has made me so. I know I've done good though, in getting the new job. I've eased Master's stress in securing a job that can support me and our youngest child should something happen to him. So, if nothing else, that is a bright spot. Once I start earning money at the new job I will ease more of his stress; another bright spot. I'm trying to skip from bright spot to bright spot, focusing on them instead of the sadness that lurks in the corner.

When I let myself I do feel somewhat proud of myself, this is my first "grown-up" job. It's the first job I'll have had that pays enough, with excellent benefits, to allow me to be independent should I need to be. I don't quite know how I feel about that. I know I'm awfully old to be having this experience but I did things a little backwards, having a family first and being a stay-at-home mom. Now I'm venturing out beyond a part-time job just to supplement Master's income. Instead I'm going to be a sizeable contributor to the household income in my own right. I've never been financially independent, ever.

So yeah, lots of changes to cope with. Not so happy with some of them but kicking and screaming doesn't seem to be changing anything so I just hang on and go along for the ride.

Devastating

You know, over the past year I've gotten some heart rending calls at work from widowers and widows calling to let us know their husband or wife has died so we'll stop sending mail in their name. One customer sticks with me to this day. It was an older gentleman, his wife had recently died and as is typical at the end of a call I asked him if there was anything else I could help him with. "Tell me how to mend a broken family" he said. My voice caught as emotions clogged my throat. My only response was "I wish I could Sir, I wish I could." I went on to tell him to take care and try to have a good evening and ended the call. I had to sit there for a few moments afterwards breathing, trying to stop the tears that threatened to pour out if given half the chance.

How do you mend a broken family? How do you heal after such devastation as we've had this past week? How are you supposed to feel when a loved one is murdered? Anger would be the easiest thing to feel but I don't, neither does Master. I think we're still in shock, still trying to make sense of it, and still trying to accept that this is real and not a bad dream. Right now it just feels like he's not there, you know, somewhere else but still alive. There were many family gatherings that he didn't attend for one reason or the other. There was the semester he spent studying in Italy, and that's how it feels right now; like he's just traveling somewhere to return at a later date. Tomorrow night will be the worst, tomorrow night the surreal will become real. We'll have the private family viewing and then it will hit us all that he's gone, he's not coming back, it really did happen. Until then we're all trying to hold on as best we can. Many of us are well-medicated due to panic and anxiety attacks, including yours truly.

I thought I was doing well, I thought I had a handle on it. But when I'm alone or when we're with the family the panic hits and I just want to run. Run to where, I don't know, I just need to run away. Away from all this grief, away from the mental images I have of him lying there alone, dying. Just away. Sometimes ignorance would be bliss, it'd be orgasmic. I hate having the medical and forensic knowledge I have right now, I hate knowing exactly why we have to have a closed casket funeral for the public. I guess I've found my anger, I hate the necessity of it. WHY did he have to shoot him there? WHY!? Why did he have to shoot him at all?! It's not fair. It's not right. It's just such a waste of life, a waste of a life, both lives.

I guess you never realize what a gift life really is until you're faced with such a loss. Lady protect us, Lady guide us, hold us in your arms and comfort us. Gods know I'm trying to see the lesson in all of this, the reason. I have my moments of clarity, when I can see the good he's done, he's brought us all together, he's reunited estranged family members, he's facilitated healing. We're going to honor that gift by continuing that healing and staying united with the family.

Still, it hurts and my hurt is nothing in comparison to Master's. He's lost his little brother, his youngest brother, and he's watching his mother die just a little bit. Each child a mother holds dear but the youngest is her heart. I put myself in her shoes and I know I'd die if any of my children were taken from me but doubly so if I lost my youngest. I can't even contemplate it without crying so I shy away from it.

Later, when I'm ready, I'm going to post a tribute to Master's youngest brother, a memorial of my own. In my own way I will honor him and celebrate his life. I cannot speak as Master has been able to, my emotions choke me and I can't get the words out. But I can write so that is what I will do.

I thank each and every one of you for your kind words and support, it means the world to me and to Master. I share everything that is sent to me with him and he asks me to pass along his thanks with my own.

On Hiatus

Due to unimaginable circumstances I'm taking a short break from blogging publicly. The things I have to write about right now are too private, too raw, to share just yet. I don't know if I will ever share here, that will be up to Master as it's more his loss than mine.

Life is a gift, celebrate it, enjoy it, and don't put anything off until tomorrow. Tomorrow never comes.

Are You Sure That's Mine?

That's the thought that runs through my head every time I look at that picture of my butt that I posted a while back. It just doesn't look like the butt I've lived with for the last umpteen years. Whose butt is that? It's my new butt I guess you could say. Yeah, yeah, it sounds silly but it's true.

I'm uncovering a new body with every pound I lose. I look in the mirror every day trying to see the real me and not the distorted image I have of myself. I think I've seen the huge me for so long that I still expect to see her in the mirror. Not that I'm skinny, but I haven't been this "thin" for oh, 12-13 years. It's true, I am losing weight and I've lost quite a good chunk since May.

This distorted image issue is nothing new for me. When I weighed 128 lbs at the age of 15 I saw a fat girl in the mirror and even tried replacing a meal or two with water for an entire summer in the hopes of losing weight. While believing I was fat, I also lived in dread of getting fat. I was very ignorant then and lazy too. I realize now that I was nowhere near being fat then but the distorted image hasn't gone away and I'm not sure it ever will. I've just made peace with it and I accept it as a fact of my life. I have two men in my life who love me for who I am and who lust after me just the way I am right now. What's more, they lusted after me when I was about 50 pounds heavier. Their love, lust, and acceptance has helped me learn to accept and love myself.

But, every extra pound I carry is more stress for my back and every pound lost reduces that stress. I want to be able to serve Master to the best of my ability for many, many, many years to come. If I continued on as I was, or gained more weight, my ability to serve would have been greatly diminished. These are my motivators. My inspiration would be the ladies at Submissives Taking It Off, I can't say enough good things about these folks, they're just great.

Almost daily I look to Master for reassurance that I really do look thinner. It's not that I'm compliment-fishing, although it feels good to be complimented, I need to be reassured that I'm not dreaming, that it's real, that I really am losing weight and not just imagining the changes. It goes back to that whole distorted image thing; sometimes when I look down at myself I don't see a smaller belly, it looks like the same belly I've been looking down at for years and I don't notice that I no longer have to bend over to see my feet. I sort of borrow his eyes at those times, they see a little more clearly than mine.

I had a strange thought yesterday. I wondered if my losing weight will affect the way Master and I play(SM). Obviously I'll have less padding than I did, which I guess could translate into less protection. Will some things hurt more now than they did when I was heavier? I'm starting to think my weight will have less of an influence on our SM play than my back issues will/do.

Master took me to buy a new pair of jeans that actually fit. He doesn't see me in street clothes very often, when I get home from work I head upstairs to change into my house clothes and on the weekends we're busy so I guess he just doesn't notice. This past weekend, he did notice. He thought the jeans I was wearing were dirty because they were so baggy. Sorry Sir, not dirty, just too big. *smiles*

So that's where I'm at today. Actually I've been writing this entry for a while now and debated as to whether or not I'd post it. We're co-hosting a lifestyle wedding reception this weekend with the Tribe for two members of the Tribe, m'Lady and her new husband. I'm looking forward to being able to dress up and wear actual fetish clothes, I've got a pair of "leather" pants that were given to me that I plan to wear along with a corset top I have. I think the combination will be sexy as heck. Maybe Master will get a picture of me all dolled up. *hint, hint to Master*

The Power of Words

I've been musing about the power of words, as I often do. Last night Master and I made a trip to the store to pick up a couple of odds and ends and a new (smaller) pair of jeans for me. While we were in the checkout lane he asked me a question, I don't remember what he asked me, what I remember is my response. I responded very quickly and without thought "Yes Sir." It's not a common thing for me to do, usually it's "Yes Dear" or "Yes Boss". As soon as I realized what I'd said, within hearing of the checker, I felt self-conscious but I also felt a little shiver of pleasure at addressing him like that in public. I'm silly I guess.

I'm just very new to the whole honorifics thing. I've done it when prompted but I have always felt self-conscious, the words felt like an affectation to me. It's only been recently that I've felt driven to use words like 'Sir'. It felt natural last night, I only felt self-conscious because of the checker standing about two feet in front of me. It didn't feel like an affectation, it was a normal response to a question from my Master. It makes me feel very submissive using those words. Yet, when I "sir" and "ma'am" customers at work it doesn't. There is no submission just courtesy and politeness. With Master there is feeling behind a "yes Sir", there is deep respect, and profound love and adoration. I wonder if there is an audible difference between the two instances.

Master has never required honorifics from me and I'm happy that I got to come to it on my own. I wonder if the words would have felt as powerful to me if I were required to say them vs. feeling inspired to do so. I wonder a lot, we know this. It comes from spending a lot of time alone in my head with my own thoughts. ;-)

I watch and listen to others who use honorifics as a matter of course, some say it with feeling, some don't. I wonder what the point of using an honorific is if you don't have some feeling behind it. Is it to boost someone else's ego? If it's done to reinforce one's position I would think there would be feeling behind it even if you didn't feel particularly submissive to the person you were Sir'ing or Ma'am'ing. I don't know, I'm probably off base here and I don't have personal experience to draw from. I'm just theorizing and pondering things I've observed.

Laziness And Frustration

I've been frustrated now for a while. Master got lazy, he relaxed his control to the point that it felt non-existent. He let infractions of the rules slide with nothing more than a playful warning of punishment the next time it happened. I understand no one likes to dole out punishment, it's not fun, it's disappointing to have to do, and I'm guessing it's upsetting too. Still, I need that discipline, that correction, and the structure. I need to know that rules will be enforced and that his expectations of me aren't going to change.

Along with relaxed rules has come a lack of play. That's always a recurring theme for us, either he's exhausted and just wants to relax, or we don't have alone time so we don't have to worry about keeping it quiet (this is almost never, we never have alone time), or when we go visit our friends with the intention to play all we do is sit and chat all night. I'm not complaining, not really. I love just sitting and chatting with our friends, I love the companionship we all share. But dang it, I need to play too! I need semi-regular SM play. I need him to be interested in doing it with me.

I don't blame him, not really. I understand why he's been lax with the rules and why he's been exhausted. His job is stressful and demanding, he's constantly in charge and on top at work. He's the go-to guy who solves a lot of problems. It's understandable that when he gets home the last thing he wants to do is be the boss of anyone. On top of all that, he's working six days a week right now covering for another guy who was injured. So no, I'm not blaming him, I'm not angry with him over any of this. I'm just frustrated by it all.

We have talked about this, I sort of blew up last week and sent him a very strongly-worded e-mail after his teasing me all night with promises of play that night, he decided he was too tired and went to sleep. Then I was angry. I was indignant, self-centered, and in general a royal b*tch. I'm ashamed to admit that I deliberately bratted in hopes of getting some sort of rise out of him. It didn't work, and sadly enough I'm still not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. I believe that I deserve(d) punishment for the way I behaved and for the e-mail I sent, it was disrespectful and downright rude. Yet, he chose to not punish me. He agreed with me that he's been slacking in his responsibilities and felt that I had the right to "call him on the carpet" over it, although he didn't care for the way I went about it. I still wish he'd have punished me but I'm not questioning his decision.

I just want my Master back, I need the man who expected certain behavior from me. I need the man who wouldn't hesitate to punish me or at the very least, chastise me for my ill behavior. Is that selfish? I suppose it is. It's hard to be half of a whole when the other half seems to be partially missing. For quite a while I'd felt as if I was being treated like a vanilla wife with a few rare kinky sprinkles. This, I guess, is a pitfall one has to be wary of if one goes into M/s after having started out and spent a good part of life as a married couple.

Still, the other day's activity with the enema seemed to help get my head right. It was such a deeply submissive act for me and I've felt worshipful of him ever since. It's funny how that happens. I wonder if it did anything similar for him. Did it make him feel more Masterful to have me submit to him like that?

We're going to make a concerted effort to keep the M/s active. He's resumed our bathroom ritual and I've been nearly beside myself with happiness over being allowed to cook many of the week's meals for him. I enjoyed it so much that I asked him if I could do it again for the coming week and he agreed. At least I'm able to serve and I'm looking for new ways to improve that service. Still, the masochist in me is frustrated. I'd be grateful for a short over the knee spanking. I'd love being pulled down over his lap and given a few short swats and then sent on my way. It would at least be something. It would indicate that he still enjoys SM play with me. Yes, I'm a silly girl sometimes, I need to know my man still enjoys certain things with me.

I got into a situation with my Sir, who isn't much of a sadist at all, where he was giving me SM play because I wanted/needed it, not because he got any actual enjoyment from it. It quickly lost its appeal when I realized he was doing it for me. It started feeling like he was serving me and it affected my submission to him. Yes, couples do things for each other because they want to. But if you're always doing something for someone else because they like it when you dislike it, that's too much like service for me to be comfortable with. Call me silly, I don't care, it's how I feel. *shrug*

So, I'm a frustrated masochist but a happy servant. I'm thankful that he's taken up the slack in the leash and that he's allowing and expecting more service from me. I just wish we could make some time for SM play.

"Vanilla" D/s Moments

There's been a lot going on this week with Master being ill and me having a bit of trouble myself. But something happened to make the ordinary extraordinary.

Master and I were in the grocery store, he wanted to leave but I wanted to take one more look for an item I hadn't yet found. It was in this looking that we were stopped by an older gentleman who looked for all the world like a farmer in his denim bib overalls and big baggy coat. Actually, it was Master he stopped with a polite "Excuse me." He looked at Master and pointed to me and said "Her shirt says 'Bad Girl', is she a bad girl?" Master chuckled and said "Oh yeah, she's definitely a 'Bad Girl', very bad." I blushed and got this silly grin that stayed plastered to my face for quite some time. I couldn't quit grinning, I enjoyed the entire exchange. I'm sure everyone will interpret things differently but it made me feel very submissive, very much like property, and even a bit childlike. The man talked about me instead of to me. Master also talked about me instead of to me. Of course after we'd all gone our separate ways I looked at Master and said "I may be a bad girl but I'm very good at it." I giggled afterwards as he agreed with me. He likes his bad girl.

I shared this experience with some close friends and one of them responded, pointing out that you just never know how much some people really do know. You also never know just what some people might do behind closed doors. Master suggested the possibility that the gentleman is a farmer but has a full dungeon on his farm. If that was the case then I wonder, do we give off a vibe that indicates our relational roles? Or are we just that obvious? I'm going to have to try to pay attention to how we act in the grocery store and to the people around us. If they're staring then I guess we're being obvious.

Another One Bites The Dust

Master stayed home sick today, as did I. I was having some IBS (irritable bowel syndrome) troubles and needed to stay home and alleviate a certain problem. This alleviation is done by way of a warm water enema and up until today they've been self-administered.

Today Master decided that he was going to bulldoze his way through yet another limit of mine. I've constantly held firm that there was no way I'd let him administer an enema for me, it's always seemed too close to scat play for me. Until today he'd respected my feelings on the matter. Ordinarily it's not been an issue for him, he knows that enemas can make me physically ill but thanks to IBS and the addition of yet another pain med, I need them every now and again. Oddly enough, at these times the enema doesn't make me ill. Go figure. I guess today was the perfect opportunity and one he wasn't going to let pass him by.

I didn't believe he really wanted to do it at first. I thought he was just putting me on just to enjoy the my discomforted reaction. No such luck. I asked him "Are you really serious about doing this?" I wasn't a very happy camper and I even accused him of taking advantage of the situation. Duh! Sadist! I can't claim to have been thinking clearly. I was flustered and uncomfortable with what was about to happen. It just seemed so humiliating to have him administer an enema, but I needed it and I didn't think he'd have let me off the hook if I whined. So, without any complaints I went into the bathroom and knelt on the floor while he prepared the applicator. He used plenty of lubrication on my bottom and on the applicator so as to make insertion easier. I was thankful that he at least refrained from making any sort of teasing comments while the hot water bottle emptied its contents into my bowels.

Strangely enough, once I'd gotten past the whole "Oh gawd I'm so humiliated" I didn't feel humiliated. Instead I felt... come on you know what I'm going to say....very submissive. My Master was taking care of me and doing something that would ultimately make me feel better. Thinking back on it now I wish he would have stroked my bottom and my back during the process. It would have felt soothing and comforting. Somehow I think there will be a next time so perhaps he'll consider my wish to be a request.

I don't know if he expected it, but taking that control from me and actually administering an enema turned him on. He enjoyed it quite a bit and was sure to show me the evidence of his pleasure while I curled up on the bed waiting afterwards. It was a little while later, perhaps a half an hour, when I realized how much it had affected me. I was aroused, and not just a little aroused either. I was very aroused and very wet.

A year ago I'd have rather died than submit to an enema administered by anyone but a medical professional, and even then I'd probably have suggested to them that I could manage on my own. It's just interesting, he seems to know the right time to push the envelope of experience with me. He's been teasing me for quite some time, a few years at least, about giving me an enema but has never pushed the issue. Perhaps he's been gauging my responses? I don't know. I've never deviated from my standard response that I'm aware of. Maybe he's seen the same thing our dominant friend has been remarking on, the higher visibility of my "slave side".

I'm really pleased with the experience all in all and I'm really thankful he allowed me the privacy to "finish" alone. Now that would have been difficult to bear. I'm sorry that Master was home sick but at the same time, it afforded us an opportunity that we might not have had otherwise so I can't be too sorry. *smiles*

A Slave's Purpose

Last night Master and I were out with part of the Tribe. They're M/s like Master and I and he's the one that Master is plotting a slave switch day with. Knowing both of them as I do it wouldn't surprise me in the least if the whole thing was a mindf*ck. They're really taking a lot of delight in making us girls nervous about what they're planning. Of course, they could also want us to believe it's just a mindf*ck when it's really going to happen. They're very devious and think the mind is a great playground. Yep, I'm onto you guys and I know anything is possible.

Anyway, he was talking about how he feels a slave's primary thought should always be "How can I please my Master today?" In an ideal world yeah, I agree. Unfortunately we're not in an ideal world and I didn't check my humanity at the door when I accepted Master's collar. My goal is always to find ways to please my Master, to make his life easier. I'd say, and I hope Master will correct me if he disagrees, that I accomplish that on most days. But there are things I will struggle with, I'm human. There are things I may not be capable of doing, either because my body is unable to comply, or because my mind is incapable of moving past baggage or trauma.

If we run into those kinds of road blocks does that make me less pleasing? Does it make me a failure as a slave or less a slave than one who doesn't have those road blocks? I don't think so. I think that if I'm trying, if I'm making an honest effort and just cannot accomplish the task, it should be accepted as the effort it is instead of treated as a failure. This is different than a refusal to comply and no, a refusal to comply should not be accepted.

I'd be crushed if Master treated me like I'd failed him as a slave for being unable to do something. (I think I've said this before) Eventually, if he kept acting as if I'd failed, it would wear down my self-esteem. I do base some of my self-worth on what he thinks of me. I don't care if it's healthy, or co-dependent, it's just what I do. My Master's opinion of me is extremely important to me. He is the only person that has been allowed that close to me and he could destroy me with one word. Yes, I've given him that much power, I trust him that much.

Another question comes to mind for me. If a slave's primary thought should be how to please her Master, what should his primary thought be?

At one point in the conversation he (our dominant friend) asked me "What do you think of petticoats?" The first thing that popped into my head was "It sounds complicated." After further reflection I can say more fully that in fantasy it sounds very fun, in reality it would feel strange. It's not my style to dress up that girly even if I do love the more romantic type fashions. So I'd feel uncomfortable and as if I were wearing a costume. Now, my ideal "fantasy" costume would be a kimono. To me, they are utterly feminine and so delicate, yet, not girly. If that makes any sense. Heh!

I understand the motivation behind wanting to dress me up in petticoats, etc. It would be so vastly different from the way I normally dress, even when I'm dressed up. It would make me extremely uncomfortable and would probably throw me off my game a bit because I'd be preoccupied with the clothing and my discomfort in it. However, I'm already going to be off my game. I've never served another, not really. I'm trained in a specific way, if there is something Master requests that I find distasteful, he likes to see it in my expression. I don't know how to keep my emotions and thoughts from showing on my face and in my eyes. This is what makes me a terrible liar, by the way.

And what this has to do with a slave's purpose... well, it would please my Master to see me serve another so I have been spending a lot of time thinking about it and trying to sort out how I could do it successfully. He likes that I'm struggling with the entire concept of being given in service to another and he likes that I would struggle with not being able to serve him directly. I don't know how I will adapt to a dominant style that is so different from the one I'm accustomed to. I do recognize the merits of this type of switch, I imagine I'd learn quite a bit from the experience.

I know I've rambled and not really made a lot of sense but I needed to get it out of my head and in print so I can sort it all out. I just think that saying a slave's primary thought should be how to please her Master is rather limited. I think it goes without saying that if one is a consensual slave one already has that desire, that need, to serve and please one's owner. We're already looking for ways to please our owners, it's just that sometimes the things owners want are beyond our capabilities. Sometimes it's only a matter of getting one's head around the situation in order to be able to comply. Sometimes it's simply something we cannot do despite our best efforts, if that is the case it is unfair to treat it as a failure. Would you, as a dominant want to be thought of as a failure because there was some domly type of activity that you were unable to do or that you struggled with? I think not.

Mondays-I Hate Mondays

I swear to Pete, the Universe really is out to get me. Either that or my kids are all just mean and don't want to see me happy.

I had plans today. I was going to see Sir, he was going to come visit me, I was going to dress up in sexy clothes and make up for him, and we were going to have a little (lot of) fun. On the drive to take LMR to school she dashed my plans and shattered them to bits with just a simple sentence. "I'm not going to work today [boyfriend] is going to take me to the library instead." That's it, and she's still here, sleeping and waiting for his return call. Had she been a biddable child she would have been swayed by my reasoning that she should work today and go to the library tomorrow when she had more time. Seeing the way things are going, that would have been the better plan anyway. But no, it's more fun to ruin mom's plans for the day.

So no Sir, no sex, no sexy stories to leave for Master to read when he gets home. I'm really, really, really, bummed. It's not fair. I haven't seen my Sir in, oh, more than a month I think, probably closer to two months. Nothing ever seems to work out. The last time we made plans to get together both he and Master were sick with allergies. Next time it'll probably be the evil monthly fairy.

I feel frantic to be able to make time to see him. I'm trying to get a day job and once that happens I'll no longer have my days free for him. It's kind of difficult to keep a relationship going when you don't have *any* face time whatsoever and your communication is kind of sparse. I'm just really unhappy with the way things turned out today.

I hate Mondays.

Necessity

I hate having to do this. I thought it was something that was just understood, you know? Recent events have led to the necessity of spelling it out in plain English.

So, here it is.

All writing on this site is copyrighted material, do not take posts from this site and post them anywhere else without giving proper credit, including a link back to the page it came from.

Thank you for your understanding and consideration in this matter.

Joy

*Edit- I've disabled right clicking and text highlighting. I don't know if I'll keep it but for now it makes me feel better. I realize this won't stop the truly determined but short of password protecting my blog, which I'd really hate to have to do, I'm willing to try just about anything that might help. Sorry for any inconvenience this might cause. Do let me know if it causes any hassles, I can't think of any off the top of my head but that's not surprising. ;-)

Blissfully Sore

Nope, not that kind of sore. There's been no SM around here this week, unless you count the other night when he took the evil little knife and lightly dragged it across the insides of my thighs while I was sitting on the commode going potty. Gods I love that little knife, it fits in the palm of the hand when closed and isn't all that much bigger when opened. The blade is super sharp and curves into a nasty little point. It did this a few weeks ago. Not everyone's cuppa but it sure makes me purr.



No, today isn't kinky sore, it's being sore from pushing my body too far beyond what it can do, which these days isn't too terribly much at all. I cleaned our bedroom today, dusted, vacuumed, and scrubbed in the adjoining bathroom. I did a load of dishes and a couple of loads of laundry too. I'm just glad Master understands me well enough to just accept that I need to do these things despite the resulting pain. I think he knows I'm not going to intentionally push my body to the point of causing further injury. I'm not that much of a masochist. But I do need to be able to serve him in this way. He's working so much OT lately and is barely here long enough to eat and sleep. I'm hoping he'll let me plan a couple of crock pot meals that I can throw together before I leave for work so he doesn't have to come home after a 12-hour day and try to summon the energy to cook dinner.

So yeah, my back hurts tonight, all the way down to the bottoms of my feet, my limp is a little more pronounced, and I'm pretty well exhausted from the pain. But I'm sitting here smiling because he's got a clean bedroom to sleep in, a clean mirror to look at himself in, and a clean sink to brush his teeth in (and make a mess of all over again ;-) ).

There is no wanting in me tonight, I don't want more this, or more that. I'm right where I need to be, doing the things I need to be doing. Sure I have limitations and it'd probably be a wise choice to divide the cleaning chores up into smaller chunks to be done daily instead of doing the whole thing in one day, but they're limitations, not limits. I don't know if that distinction makes sense to anyone else but me. A limit, to me, is something I cannot, will not, do. It's a line drawn in the sand, go here and no further. A limitation is something you adapt to, you work around it, but you don't stop just because it's there. That's me, today at least.

Adapting to Serve

I'm in a tizzy. Okay, not a full-blown tizzy, more of a tiz I guess. I've only really served one Master in all my time on this path. With Sir it has always been more about play and sex than roles; he doesn't want to live as dominant to my submissive or slave but he likes to visit there occasionally and loves the kinky sex. M'Lady is quite similar to Master in her style and expectations of me. So, perhaps I'd be more accurate in saying I've only served one style in all this time. Either way, what it boils down to is me panicking because I don't know if it'll work. Obviously it's not the end of the world if it doesn't work and I'm being silly but I want it to work.
What am I talking about? Oh yeah... guess I didn't say did I? Well, there's an M/s couple we know and are friends with. He would like to have a "switch" day. He'd like her to serve my Master and me to serve him. My Master is open to the idea, which means if it's decided we'll be giving it a go.

As I mentioned in my last post, he likes a slave who joyfully submits and more often than not she does so. I'm not that type of slave, moreover I'm a strong-willed she-b*tch to deal with sometimes. My Master likes and appreciates this quality in me, he enjoys the challenge and enjoys my obedience despite my discomfort. I think he's a lot like a lion tamer, it must be intoxicating and hmm...empowering to see an animal that would sooner eat you than look at you performing tricks and obeying commands that you've issued. I have it on good authority that there are times I do indeed look as if I'd rather have a nibble of him than obey. That is just who I am. How do I reign that in? Performing service for my Master at a formal dinner party for dominants is different than being in service to another dominant for a day.

So, as I said, I'm in a tiz over it. Master thinks I shouldn't worry about it until such time as it's been decided and then, really, it's too late so why worry? Pfftt! Masters! He doesn't have to worry about being punished for failure to comply in the way that's desired. I'm concerned that I won't meet expectations, I've already met with the other dominant's displeasure while complying with a command from my Master. What's going to happen if he gets to be the boss of me for a day?? I understand his interest in the whole thing, he'd like to see her under the command of someone harsher than himself. He thinks my Master is that someone and he can be, usually in scene and with me. Out of scene he's relaxed, laid back, and doesn't sweat the small stuff. But does my Master really want to see me under the command of someone else? And if so, why? I LIKE my Master's style, love it even, I love serving him and I know I'd feel a certain amount of loss at not being able to serve him specifically even for a day. Yes, yes, that's selfish, I don't care. It's how I feel. I love my Master and I want to serve him as often as possible, as much as possible, for as long as possible, and I don't want to miss out on any opportunities to serve him. Granted, I could find a convoluted way to look at being lent in service to another as indirect service to him, but I think you can see that it's not quite the same.

I like playing with our dominant friend, he can be deliciously sadistic and enjoys being so with me where he doesn't with his girl because her masochist button is a little smaller than mine. Okay, I'm a pain pig. There, feel better now that I've admitted it? *ggg* But I honestly think he's going to feel the lack of his girl. She's the perfect slave for him, she suits him well. Where she's quiet, soft, and utterly feminine; I'm loud, rough in spots, and hmm... not as feminine. I'm new to being a girly girl and probably won't ever be a complete girly girl. I was a tomboy as a child, sat with legs splayed wide in a formal gown(in private) as a teen, and still retain some of that as a woman grown. Often when I'm in full girly girl regalia I feel like I'm playing dress-up, like I'm pretending to be something, someone, else. SO, you see... You don't see? *sigh*

I feel severely lacking in comparison to her and yeah, it's one tiny step to the left (then a jump to the riiiight...but I digress) to being afraid that Master will like her better, she can orgasm easily, gods know that'd be a treat for him since a good part of the time my O-button is busted. I wonder if she has similar concerns. It's funny, when I take a moment to step outside of myself, I realize that I'm not the only one who could fall prey to self-comparison. But I think, I don't think I'm too far off the mark either, that the men will be doing their own comparing and noting the differences. I wonder what may happen then. Will they want us to learn to be more like the other? Change our submissive style? Or will they realize how content they are with the partner they've chosen? I'm just as worried about how she'll feel as I am about myself. I adore her to bits and I don't want to be the cause of any bad feelings on her part.

I'm a questioner, a planner, and a control freak. I know I've said this somewhere before. The unknown scares the bejaysus out of me, hence the planning, questioning, and controlling. I need to know what to expect and what is expected of me in order to not worry. I rely heavily on Mapquest and I double-check with YahooMaps when I'm going somewhere unfamiliar. I pack for every eventuality and then some, and I spend countless hours planning and thinking about the possibilities so I feel mentally prepared for anything. Anything that makes me feel like the rug has been pulled out from beneath me is met with panic, in severe cases I shut down and the panic takes over, hence the planning, questioning.., etc.

It's at this point that they'd both pipe up with "Yes, but what are you?" Slave. Yes Master, I know and I will obey, whatever you two decide. I'm just, well, me.

So, I guess I need to get familiar with this faith concept I keep hearing about. Maybe I ought to brush up on my service skills too, just in case. There isn't much I can do about my pain tolerance or my physical endurance on a given day, but I'd do my best to not disappoint. Most importantly, I know this is the one you're most interested in Master, I'd do my best to let any jealousy or insecurity I was feeling just wash through me and let it go. I'm the best me I can be in this moment, if that's not enough then nothing ever will be and I can't control that, much as I'd like to.

Still, I'm wondering if we'd get a briefing of the expectations before it happened and would I get to ask (and have them answered) questions to clarify? Sometimes being a consensual slave isn't fun, though it is fulfilling. How's that for contrary? *chuckling*

Control: Choices and Responsibility

Miss kaya posted a quote on her journal about control and some of the comments veered off toward discussing choices and responsibility that submissives and slaves have. Instead of hijacking her comments section to give a fuller response I decided to just do it here.

I noted a prevailing attitude that any control in the relationship would bring added responsibility. I'm guessing/hoping that they were referring to additional responsibility beyond personal responsibility. There also seemed to be a general allusion to the effect that having any control would negate one's status as a consensual slave. This got the old wheels a turnin' in my melon. I know I've covered personal responsibility before but this, I think, is a little more. Some thoughts will just be reiterations of earlier thoughts, some should be brand new. *wink*

Despite my status as owned property I am still human, I am still responsible for myself and my choices and I am also responsible to my Master. I think it's pure fantasy to believe otherwise. There's nothing wrong with fantasy but there is a place and time for it. If I robbed a bank, even if it were at Master's command, I'd be going to jail, not him (unless it could be proven that I feared for my life or some such and even then...). Telling the judge "Master made me do it" isn't going to go over very well and certainly won't save my butt from the consequences. Instead the judge might wonder about my mental health status.

If I failed (with intent) to meet my responsibilities to Master I think he'd have a thing or two to say about it. For all I know certain intentional failures on my part could be a deal breaker for him, meaning he'd release me. We haven't really talked about the what ifs of me not meeting, or at least trying, to meet his expectations. It hasn't been an issue because there isn't anything that I've really dug my heels in about. Yeah, I've got the trust/fear/jealousy/insecurity issue but I'm still trying and working on it. I'm not throwing my hands up in defeat and refusing to even try. Now that would be a failure on my part and I'd understand if it led to release. I wouldn't like it but again, I'm responsible for my choices and not even trying is a choice, which will have consequences.

Robbing a bank may well be a command from my Master, and as his slave I've consented to obey his commands, however; in becoming my Master he consented to look out for my welfare. A command to rob a bank is going to negatively impact my well-being. As far as I'm concerned, if he does anything, with intent, that will harm me in any way all bets are off. My responsibility to him is negated then and my first responsibility to myself kicks in. It goes without saying that one should choose carefully the one s/he will surrender his/her will to so that they can give up as much control as is desired and/or possible. Obviously I wouldn't have consented to become Master's slave if I thought he would ever command me to rob a bank, or anything else that would harm me so no, I'm not sitting here just waiting for him to do something so I can say "Aha! That's it, I'm outta here!" That thought never even crosses my mind.

What this means is that as a consensual slave I do have choices and I make them daily. I am personally responsible for these choices but that responsibility doesn't give me untoward control in the relationship nor does it negate my "slavehood". The control I do have, again I don't believe it negates my status as a slave, is self-control and I am responsible for exercising it. He expects nothing less.

Control and responsibility do not negate slave, or submissive for that matter, status unless those participating in the relationship feel that it does. For example, some slaves are given control of, and responsibility for, the finances. Does that make them less a slave than I am, a slave kept in ignorance about the finances? It makes their experience of consensual slavery different than mine, nothing more, nothing less.

No two M/s relationships will look exactly alike, despite some commonalities. We are very good friends with another M/s couple and though we have a lot in common there are still differences. She is somewhat in charge of the finances and is responsible for them, he desires a slave that will obey his commands joyfully, even the ones she finds distasteful. I'm ignorant of the finances and Master actually likes to see that I'm not terribly thrilled with a certain command but am obeying in spite of that. I also have, I think, a lot more leeway in how I am expected, and allowed, to address my Master than she has. Her Master exercises more control of the clothing she's allowed to wear than mine does. Still, we're both slaves, we both belong to our owners. Most importantly, our owners define us as slaves...despite our varying degrees of control or lack thereof. They see us as their property.

It's easy, at least for me, to get caught up in the all or nothing thinking and comparing oneself to someone else's concept of what a slave is. It's also easy to get caught up in thinking that everyone should think like we do because we have it right after all. I'm sure I've been guilty of that a time or three myself. *wry grin*

It's all individual and subjective, which brings me to a concern I've got that will be another journal entry altogether. Adapting to serve another dominant style... and don't ask me how I made that leap of logic, that I can't explain. *impish grin*

Clear as mud? Probably.

Fear

I must not fear. Fear is the mind-killer. Fear is the little-death that
brings total obliteration. I will face my fear. I will permit it to pass
over me and through me. And when my fear is gone I will turn and face fear's path, and only I will remain. -Paul Atreides Dune

I'm afraid today. Just a few innocent words set my heart to racing and let a squadron of butterflies loose in my gut. I may be faced with a situation tonight that only a few short weeks ago I shied away from with fear, jealousy, and insecurity riding me hard. There was much pain that night, much I'd like to forget. I'd be a liar if I said I wasn't afraid. But I want to face this fear head-on and I want to beat it. Is my spirit strong enough? Have I healed enough to make it possible? I don't know. My fear whispers, "too soon, too soon" half of me wants to listen and heed fear's warning. I want so very much to beg Master to not let anything happen but I won't. I'll share my fears with him and trust that he'll take care of me and see me through it.

I must focus on the good. I am loved, I am cherished, and I am worthy of his love. I am safe. I am his and he will not let me go. I am beautiful, I am desireable, and I am sexy.

Sometimes there is a pattern to life and it seems that the Universe is pushing me to work on this at its pace instead of my own ploddingly slow one. Fighting it only makes things worse, the Universe is implacable in this. Ignore it once and a once soft tap on the shoulder turns into a wallop upside the head with a 2x4. Resist and gentle urgings become a raging river dragging you along to where you need to be. The Universe is implacable, Master is far gentler and more understanding. It seems I've nowhere left to run or hide.

The Root of the Matter

Jealousy and insecurity, I'm supposed to be working on these issues. To work on them though, one has to get to the root of the matter, to what is causing these feelings, these issues.

I read somewhere that most jealousy and insecurity is caused by our own fears. So what fears do I have that are causing my jealousy and insecurity? Big ones. I'm scared of being abandoned, cast aside, found wanting. I'm scared of not getting my needs met. Underneath all my armor I'm very needy, I need attention, I need to feel loved, I need to feel wanted. I need a lot. When I'm aroused, needing pain, or vulnerable after pain play, I'm at my neediest. I'm most vulnerable then too, open, raw. One careless word or wrong look can shatter me. After years of keeping walls around this part of me then taking them down for Master, I don't quite know how to protect myself anymore. I don't know what the happy medium between walls and no walls is, does anyone?

So, how do I get over these fears? I know I have to let myself feel the truth of his love for me, let myself see and believe in the reality that he's not going to abandon me, cast me aside, or find me wanting in comparison to another. It's hard though, it's so hard. I know it's high time I drop the baggage from my past and I think I have dropped most of it.

It's just, gods, I grew up not being good enough, being compared to my perfect little sister and being found wanting, not getting any of my needs met, being used for what I could give and then tossed aside. How do you overcome that conditioning?? That was my reality for half my life. I was the dark child, brooding, silent, mysterious, and withdrawn. I'm sure at some point I was open and loving and as full of sunshine as any other child, but somewhere along the way that changed and I became what I was, and still am to some degree.

Master, I want to get over these fears, I do, I just don't know how. How do I let go the fear of not getting my needs met? You say that I should be assertive, aggressive, and involve myself when we're with another. But you're asking a slave to act like an equal. I don't know if I am able to do that anymore. It's so much a part of me to hang back and wait for your attention or your direction, to accept what you want to give when you want to give it, to not expect you to give me attention when I want it. I feel so jumbled up about this and I think I'm talking in circles.

How do you want me to let you know if I'm in a bad place in my head when we're not alone? Am I allowed to ask for a moment alone to talk? Am I allowed to ask for some reassurance, some affection? How do I do that without giving offense? I know you want me to handle this on my own, it's my issue, and to some extent I agree. But, I need, Master. I need. I don't think I can do this completely on my own.

I know I need to change my thought process, I need to replace the old tapes with new ones, and the only person I should compare myself to is myself. This is something I have to do on my own, I know. I know also that you believe that after all this time I should feel secure in my position with you, but think for a moment, how many years did I not know? I've not had very long, in the scheme of things, to get comfortable and feel secure. I'm still learning. You may not leave me in body but you've left me in spirit in the past and it wounded me more deeply than I'd first imagined. In my head I know things are different now, I know you'd never do that again. But inside I'm still cringing, waiting for it to happen again. The glue on that particular piece of me is still fresh and not quite dry.

Yes, my jealousy and insecurity are born out of fear. I'm scared to feel the way I used to feel. Empty. I'm scared to lose what we've worked so hard to build together. I'm so scared of it that I'm holding on with a death grip. So, I'm taking baby steps, I'm letting go a little at a time, one finger at a time. I'm trying to overwrite the old tapes. I'm not worthless, I'm not ugly, I'm loved, I'm lovable, I am valued for who I am. In time I will believe these things, they will be my reality.

Until then, I humbly ask for your understanding when I stumble. Please don't assume that since I've stumbled I won't get back up. I beg your permission to ask for and be granted assurances when I feel scared. Please continue to believe in me, I will continue to strive to be all you want me to be and more.

HumDrum

There just isn't much going on right now, and that's not a bad thing. I've had to quit school for now, I wrote about that on my other blog and won't rehash it here. Since I've got no reason to continue working evenings right now Master wants me to work days. I'm rather fond of the idea myself, I'm sick to death of being gone when my family is home. I had two days off last week and really enjoyed being here to take care of him in the evening and getting to spend time with my family. I'd much prefer that to be a regular occurrence than the occasional treat it has been for the past year.

I think if I were able to be home in the evenings I could perform more service for him. It's really difficult to cram everything into an hour and a half, we try to catch up on each others' day, talk about household stuff, spend time together, eat dinner, and have sex; all while both of us are just aching to go to sleep. There are things I want to do for him that just won't fit into that tiny time slot. I'd love to give him a pedicure every night, do the dishes, cook dinner, and whatever else he can think up for me to do. I really miss being a housewife. It's ironic, while I was a housewife I didn't much enjoy it and wanted something different and now that I've got that something else, I want nothing more but to be able to care for his home and be here to greet him with a smile when he gets home from work.

I was a different person before, when I didn't appreciate being a housewife. I believe I've grown a lot since then, I've definitely grown in my submission. So, we have to find a balance again. See if we can't get me working during the day so I can be here in the evenings with him. I just have to be patient, I've put in the applications and now it's up to the places I've applied with to decide if I match what they're looking for.

Reflection

Yesterday was Master's birthday and I was delighted to have the evening off from work to spend with him. There were so many things I wanted to do for him, I wanted to pamper him and make him feel like royalty. Since time was limited (he'd worked a 12 hour shift) I settled for massaging him after his shower followed by a blow-job and a nice lil romp in bed, and a candlelit dinner shared with HRS. I think we all enjoyed the candlelit dinner immensely. Tear sprung into my eyes when I had all in readiness and asked him to come to the table for dinner. I could have burst with happiness at that moment watching him eye everything appreciatively. I knew I'd done well and he was pleased.

All of this got me to thinking about the subtle changes that have been occurring. Little things that aren't noticeable at first, but become obvious when grouped with other little changes. So it was that last night I took notice of all these changes. I don't know when they happened, they just did. I've been realigning myself to more closely match what he wants and what pleases him best. He is first in my thoughts more often than not, when I see his glass is empty I ask if he needs more to drink. If I'm going to get myself a drink I ask if he'd like one as well. That isn't how the "old" me acted, I waited for him to tell me if he wanted something to drink and depending on what I was doing, might act as if I was being inconvenienced. It doesn't matter now what I'm doing, I'm happy to drop everything to serve him and actually feel uncomfortable if he gets his own drink, snack, or whatever. It feels as if he thinks "She's too busy, I'll just do it myself." My goal is for him to feel as if I am always ready and available to serve his needs.

I've changed sexually as well. My personal bubble seems to have disappeared where he is concerned. In the past deep mouth kissing, and having my nipples sucked on were things that I shied away from. Very rarely would I indulge him and mostly I did it out of necessity to appease him, not from any enjoyment of my own. I wasn't too keen on displays of affection either, the most I was comfortable with were quick pecks on the lips. I find myself now wanting to latch onto him wherever and whenever. I want to spend as much time as I can just making out with him like teenagers. I thrill at the feel of his tongue exploring my mouth, it makes things low in my body clench in anticipation. I crave the feel of his mouth working as he sucks my nipples, his tongue laving over the tips, throat working while he suckles, as if for sustenance.

I've become far less orgasm-oriented as well. Not too long ago I'd get cranky and downright b*tchy if I didn't get an orgasm at least once a week and I felt almost jealous that I wasn't getting orgasms every time he did. I am not proud to say I pouted and, in general, acted like a real sh*t about it. I think I was trying to guilt him into giving me more orgasms but when he'd give in I didn't want it. I wanted him to want my pleasure as much as I did.

It just isn't as important to me anymore, not nearly as important as his orgasm, his pleasure. Just this week Master gave me an orgasm three days in a row. I enjoyed them but I felt really out of sorts for a day or so after the last one. It just didn't feel right for me to have had so many orgasms in such a short period of time. I'm happy to say he's a couple of orgasms up on me now. *grins*

I don't know how this change happened, nor the rest of them for that matter. He hasn't done any conscious "training" as far as I'm aware, no punishment for not acquiescing to his wishes. What he has done is be consistent in his wants and his desires and never lowered his expectations of me.

It seems I'm sinking deeper into submission and instead of feeling like I'm drowning it feels as if I'm immersing myself in a warm bath, comforting and safe.

Realizations, Epiphanies, and Pottery

I realized over the weekend that I've been trying to be something I'm not and punishing myself for not being able to be that thing.

I'm like a broken piece of pottery that's been glued back together over and over, a few shards and little chips are missing. Most of the time this gives me character but it also gives me many weak points that will break with careless handling. I spend so much time with what I perceive to be unbroken pottery or at the least, mostly in tact pottery. I try to act and function like these pieces, not accepting or realizing that I will never be able to function like they do. I'll never be the same as I was before I was broken but I am still a beautiful piece nonetheless. I just need extra care and attention to ensure that I stay in one piece. Over the years there have been many patch jobs, missing shards have been found and glued back into place lending strength to me as a whole piece and it's given me a false sense of safety, invincibility. It took being dropped and shattered again to accept this reality. I'll never be unbroken but I can try to be the best piece I can be with lots of polish and loving care.

There is nothing wrong with having been broken and glued back together, nothing to be ashamed of. So there is no reason why I should try to act like an unbroken piece other than my own out-of-proportion standards I've set for myself.

I belong to a wonderful collector, he cherishes and takes excellent care of me. Despite my fragility he still uses me instead of leaving me on a shelf to collect dust. He has faith in me and likes the way I function in his life. Sometimes accidents happen and together we search for the little pieces and make repairs. Better that than being a curio kept behind glass, looked at but never touched, never given the joy of being used.

Irony

You know, I should have learned by now that writing about a thing will inevitably lead to Master getting ideas. Still, what do I do? I write about things that I find unpleasant, that I'd rather he didn't want to do, with the full knowledge that he'll read my writings and will more than likely do those activities. Too bad it doesn't work with things I like to do. *ggg*

Saturday we were visiting with the Tribe and in general having a nice time of it. Then during one of my many trips to the restroom Master decides to accompany me. Not only does he accompany me, he leaves the door open and speaks loudly enough that m'Lady hears and comes to stand in the doorway of the restroom. There I am, seated on the commode with Master standing in front of me and m'Lady standing in the doorway with the rest of the Tribe in the kitchen, with Master saying, "Welcome to humiliation" while wearing an evil grin. And it gets worse, he takes the toilet paper from me and wipes me afterwards. I tell you, I really didn't like him in that moment. This is actually one of our private rituals, him accompanying me to the restroom and wiping me afterwards as if I were a little girl unable to do it properly for myself. In private it feels so intimate and erotic but on Saturday it was sooo different. There was an element of intimacy and eroticism to it but the embarrassment and humiliation I felt overshadowed the rest. I must have blushed a million different shades of red as I hid my face in the crook of his neck while he wiped me.

I told him in a very little voice "I don't like you" and a few other choice words that I'll not repeat here. He allows this, by the way, and allowed it Saturday as well. Usually when I talk of choice words I'm wishing all manner of ill on him in the silliest way possible such as "I hope you stub your toe", etc.

Afterwards as we all sat down to dinner and the rest of the Tribe were asking about our little activity he made sure to mention that I enjoy it in private, it's just with an audience that I find it embarrassing and humiliating. Gee thanks Master, just lay me out like an open book why don'tcha? It's not that I think I've got secrets to keep heck I write about most of them here it's just that in the moment, it intensified the embarrassment and humiliation and I was hoping to just put it all behind me after it was over. In that moment I had an inkling of what Miss M goes through with her owner (members of our Tribe), he likes to share intimate details with the rest of us and it's obvious she'd prefer it if he didn't. I'm feelin' ya sister. ;-)

It was harmless, innocuous, yet the experience is sticking with me (with a little help from Master occasionally making comments about it) and I feel very affected by it. The scary part is, and I really dread even typing these words, I almost want to repeat the experience. But at the same time I'd really rather never do it again, though the latter definitely outshines the former.

Musing about Humiliation

As I was driving today I had time to think (it's a long drive) and I started musing about humiliation play and how some things that are intended to, and are found by others to be, humiliating are erotic instead.

What is it that makes an act or experience humiliating? Is it the context in which it is done? Is it location? Or is it the person doing it?

I have a very big issue around public embarrassment and being the center of public attention owing to a mother who chose to berate me in front of friends and strangers alike. I know it's baggage that I need to put down but it seems glued to me. So, anything done to me in public that would make me look silly or stupid and that would draw the public's attention would feel humiliating to me, unless it was in the context of a scene. Why? I think because then I'm prepared for the unexpected and in a way I'm in control because I'm willingly drawing the public attention by having a scene in a public venue. Yep, you guessed it, control freak. Ironic for a slave isn't it?

But beyond that, there are other things Master and I do that others consider to be part and parcel of humiliation play that just don't feel humiliating to me. Such as Master using my mouth as his urinal. It turned me on to feel his urine fill my mouth and I felt a sense of pride in being able to swallow it for him. It's something he's wanted me to do for quite a while and on first attempt I just wasn't able to swallow, I couldn't make my throat work and just held a mouthful of his urine. Now that was humiliating, not being able to accomplish a task that seemed so simple. I have a similar reaction to being urinated on. I feel a strong sense of being owned in that moment because I see it as him marking his territory and being owned and marked makes me feel secure and loved. I wonder, would I feel the same arousal and the same sense of pride in accomplishment if we were in public?

So what is it that makes an act or activity humiliating? Is it context, location, and intent? Or is it simpler than that, is it the meaning we attach to these acts and activities that lends them the power to be humiliating or erotic? I think it is definitely the latter and that is why the former is a consideration. Depending on the baggage we carry certain humiliations in certain contexts, locations, and intents could be damaging to our self-esteem or worse, create yet another trauma, further adding to our baggage.

Creativity and my Latest Endeavor

Somehow despite the stresses and frustrations of the past few months my spark of creativity has been rekindled. I've got another blog, one that's more "vanilla" and I'm planning on keeping the day to day stuff there though I have added a feed over there from here so that folks who only read me there can check me out here if they're so inclined. Okay, truth is I'm a computer geek in disguise and I like the little toys and gadgets that I can use to link my blogs, etc.

Another project I've been working on is an article/essay/paper for Master. I'm transcribing his thoughts about the Beast as he shares them with me, doing the necessary editing to make a polished piece that perhaps he'll give me permission to share here. At this point though, he says it's mostly for me to satisfy my curiosity about what makes him tick in this particular instance.

I think he's got a very interesting perspective on the lifestyle and he's got experience, knowledge, and wisdom that I think should be shared with others. He, like me, spends a lot of time in his head thinking, contemplating, theorizing, and philosophizing about various aspects of life. As a result he comes up with some interesting ideas. Once this paper is done, and if he ever gives me permission to publish his thoughts, I'd like to do a few more from his perspective on different topics he and I have had discussions about and issues we've faced as we've traveled the M/s road.

I guess I'm weird, I feel a strong responsibility to the D/s lifestyle community. I want to help newbies find their footing on the path as was done for me by those with more experience. Sort of paying it forward I guess. This is why I originally acquiesced when I was "encouraged" to become part of the leadership of our local munch group. I've since quit the leadership and I think I'm feeling, very keenly, the lack of it. There were extenuating circumstances behind my resignation and I've not felt as if it I belong in the group any longer so I haven't been participating. I daresay a good many of the members wouldn't even know who I am now because I only post to the e-mail list rarely and haven't been to a munch or any other activity in several months. That's a weird feeling, being a stranger in a group I helped lead for nearly three years. Either way, my point is that I've been missing the whole knowledge sharing experience, both the giving and receiving. I miss the debates and discussions that have forced me to look at things from a different perspective and see something I missed previously.

I blame the Ritalin (see the other blog for details) for my being more communicative these days. It is true that since I started taking it I've been more talkative, which if you know me in person you'll know is unusual, and I seem to have lost most of my discomfort with being more open about things and less self-conscious about what I say. I'm not going to look this gift horse in the mouth, this is a change for the better no matter what the cause.

I remember a night a couple of years ago, Master and I had just gotten back from an event in Chicago, it was late and we were eating dinner at a fast food place before collecting our offspring from their grandmother's house. We were talking about wanting to become more involved in the lifestyle community and wanting to help build a strong community for lifestylers. Somewhere along the way that idealism got a bit tarnished and battered with cynicism. I'm trying to clean it up now and restore the original shine, perhaps I will take Master up on his offer to attend the next munch.

Sucky Things

Master and I have found a new(to us) activity that we both seem to be enjoying immensely. Fire cupping. Put simply you take little glass cups with an opening that is smaller than the rest of the glass (we use votive holders) and put a little lubrication on the rim and just around the inside of the rim to assure a good seal. Then using a flame source, either a lighter or a candle though we've found that a lighter is easier to use, you heat the air inside the glass then quick as you can, place it on the area of skin you've got all picked out for it. As the air inside the cup cools it creates a vacuum seal and sucks some of the skin up into the cup. This is almost too much fun with nipples. *grins* The reason we feel the lighter works best is because you can keep it and the cup closer to the skin, leaving less time for the air to cool before placing the cup. I want to get Master an aim-a-flame type lighter as I think that might make things even easier/more comfortable for him.

Fire cupping, and cupping in general, is a form of acupressure and has been used in folk medicine to treat a variety of symptoms. I like it as a form of foreplay and relaxation. I relax a little more as each cup goes on, sinking into the sensation of pressure/pinch. I almost feel like purring after he's covered my back with cups. After the cups are in place Master likes to have me suck his cock and then will f*ck me. It's a very unusual sensation to be f*cked and have these cups moving about in time with his thrusts. Just changing position while the cups are in place is fun, the skin is pulled taut and each movement is a reminder that the cups are still there.

For a few minutes after they've been removed it still feels as if I'm still wearing the cups. Yesterday when he'd finished removing them I asked him if he was sure that was all because I could swear there were still some attached. I'm the type who loves to have marks to look at for days after playing so you can imagine my delight when I found perfect purplish circles all over my back the first night we tried this. It's just too bad they're not a teensy bit tender or sore, I think I'd like that too, a gentle reminder of the fun we had.

I'm doubly pleased because this is an activity we can do here at home with no worries about the girls hearing something they shouldn't. The most they might hear are my giggles and purring which could very easily be from a massage. I never thought Master would be interested in doing fire cupping because he's a serious sadist and loves percussion and impact play and he doesn't really like fire play. Much to my happy surprise he is quite enthusiastic about it and is eager to buy more cups so he can put them all over my back, butt, and the backs of my legs.

Master thinks that if he were to leave the cups on longer than we've been doing thus far that they might actually pull blood to the surface. You know I'm eager to try that next!

Words aren't enough to express how happy I am that swimsuit season is pretty well over. No more worries about having to be careful of having visible marks or having to come up with a plausible reason for said marks. I had to do that once over the summer after some very intense knife play Master and I did one afternoon. I felt so guilty about lying to my girls about how I got the cuts. It's not that I want to tell them the truth about what their parents do behind closed doors and how their mom gets those types of marks, I just don't like lying to them nor do I like having to make up stories about the marks I get. I'm not ashamed of the marks, I'm actually quite proud of them, and lying about them makes me feel, I don't know....less genuine I guess.

The marks I wear are badges of honor, they're reminders of wonderful, and sometimes not so wonderful, experiences Master and I have shared together. I also feel that every scar and tattoo on my body tells a story, they're the road map of my life. To quote a favorite song of mine, "The scars remind us that the past is real.." That's why when HRS suggested I could have a tattoo done to cover up the rune Master cut into my back I told her "No way, I love my scars."

Especially that one.

Prey

I've been giving more thought to what it means to have an inner "prey". It's not something I keep locked in a cage like Master's Beast. It roams freely inside me, it is a very proud animal and is very confident in its ability to entice and then evade the Beast. If it isn't able to evade the Beast it is certain it can withstand whatever the Beast may do to it.

I'm sure some wonder where this comes from just like they wonder where masochsim begins, etc. I really can't tell you because I don't know, it's part of who I am. When I was a little girl my favorite games to play were hide and seek (I hated being the seeker always liked being sought) and house. I wanted to play the "traditional" wife role, playing the housekeeper and happy face for the play hubby to come home to. As I got older I began to fantasize, my favorite fantasy was about being swept away by a very strong, very dominant male (think Viking warlord), who'd keep me locked in a tower somewhere as his and his alone. But, I was no meek thing in these fantasies, he'd have to woo me, win me over, and in some cases fight with me to get what he wanted.

It's true that in the past I was a victim. I was helpless and afraid and for a long time that fear and helplessness plagued me even after the abuse ended. I reclaimed myself and claimed my personal power some years ago and put those demons to rest. This isn't about reliving my victimhood or my abuse, I never want to feel that way again.

I think my inner prey was with me even then, as a child. Perhaps that is what made me a target for abuse. I don't know and I don't spend much time these days wondering "why me?" I do know that even then I knew I'd survive whatever was done to me I was sure of it, as sure as I am now when the Beast comes out to play. I fought even then, with words, trying to wheedle my way out of the encounters and failing that, with threats of revelation.

When my inner prey comes out, fills me, whatever, I at once go soft and pliant all over, my masks are stripped away and nothing is left but the prey. I quiver all over in anticipation of the hunt, my breathing becomes quick and shallow and my heartbeat quickens. I don't know what he sees in my eyes but whatever it is he seems encouraged, inflammed, by it. I know that fighting him will cause him to be more vicious, sometimes I fight.

I've said it before but I think it bears repeating, there is a very dark part of me that craves to be left bruised and bleeding afterwards. I want to be left lying on the bed, barely able to move, bruises, scrapes, and cuts covering my body, my neck sore and beginning to purple, petichia around my eyes, my scalp raw where he's pulled my hair too tightly and pulled some out by the roots, my throat swollen from having his cock forced into it over and over, basking in the endorphin rush and the knowledge of being used well and my Master being well-sated for the time being. I even crave the aftercare; his tender, and sometimes not so tender, ministrations, cleaning my wounds and covering them with anti-bacterial ointment to prevent infection, stroking my head and looking into my eyes lovingly, and just cuddling with me after all that while we both slowly swim to the surface and the Beast and prey once again are buried just under the surface.

I know it sounds like a romanticized view of something that can be very violent and ugly and if things got out of control, deadly. But this is the reality of the majority of my experiences with this type of play. How can I see it as violent or ugly when it seems natural and normal to me? I've never wanted the romantic sex that other people seem to enjoy, I don't like soft and gentle love-making, I've tried it and found myself eager for the other to finish quickly while fighting my darker urges. While it's true that the Beast and the prey aren't strictly sexual, this is how Master and I seem to end up expressing them most often.

So maybe I haven't answered the whys, I'm still exploring it and hopefully will find better answers soon.

Beastly Food for Thought

I hadn't been checking comments from my older entries and ended up missing one that has given me much to think on and has prodded me to explore the subject a little further. This is from swan:

Well, I'm late getting into this, but here goes... You've come closer to what I
was trying to address in my post on this topic that made so many people angry. I
think, with you, that "playing" with The Beast is dangerous business. We don't
do it. Unlike you, I find that The Beast in Master is the darkest of His
personality -- that within Him that is beyond His control and is NOT sane. I
have seen it and survived, but I do believe that it is possible that an
encounter with The Beast could be damaging, destructive, even deadly. He doesn't
want that, and I don't court it. I really do believe that those who say they
crave "The Beast" are longing for something primal, but are longing for
something that is far more restrained than the darkest depths that a totally
unrestrained human could go to.

I wholeheartedly agree that it is dangerous business, which is why we don't do it very often at all. The Beast in my Master is also the darkest part of his personality but it is well-caged today. In the past I'm not sure it was restrained at all, he's worked hard over the past several years to learn to control it and bulid a cage around it. I worry about mentioning this part of him, or having others see it, because I know someone somewhere is going to jump to conclusions or develop a negative view of him. I don't want to cast him in a bad light because his is a very good and very honorable man who loves and cares for me with all of his being. He has very strong limits where I'm concerned and absolutely refuses to do anything that will harm me. I'm hoping to get him to share his side of this at some point because I'm sure I'm losing something in the translation. Maybe if I ask nicely enough Master will write a guest post about the Beast from his perspective.

I think you're quite right, swan, in that some folks who long for the Beast might just be longing for something more primal, like a good rough f*ck as opposed to gentle love-making, instead of the full show. I'd like to say that yes, that's exactly what I'm longing for but that's not so. Primal is the norm for us, it's part of both our natures we've never done gentle love-making we've always f*cked and believe me there is a difference between the two. Sometimes I do want the full show and consequences be damned.

The reality is that there is a part of me that craves to be objectfied, to be reduced to being seen as nothing more than a vehicle for his pleasure, whatever that may be. I do sometimes crave to be used and left bruised and bleeding afterwards. As I mentioned in my original post, I have in me the other side of the coin, the partner to the Beast, prey. That part needs to be allowed out occasionally and when it gets out, so does the Beast. Sure we could "play", he could tie me up and pretend to menace me but we both know it isn't real and therefore, doesn't satisfy the need.

We have something else in common, he and I, we can't stop thinking and it takes quite a bit to make either of us stop thinking and just feel. That's part of the draw of intense S&M and edgeplay. It can take us to a place where the outside world no longer exists, nothing exists but the moment, the pain, and the other person. For us it not only sates our sadomasochistic appetites, it serves as stress relief and relaxation. As a side note there are gentler actvities that we do enjoy, such as fire cupping, but they don't serve the same purpose or meet the same needs.

When the Beast comes out Master's eyes change into hard glittering bits of stone, his voice becomes a coarse growling whisper, his posture becomes more aggressive, and his body becomes unyeilding. I swear his hands become harder, more solid. Just writing about it makes my heart beat a little faster and my breath come a little quicker. In person it's more powerful, in addition to the changes in my breathing and heart rate bits of my personality peel away leaving the prey which acts on instinct alone. I am fully living in my body at these times and not thinking of anything beyond the moment and meeting whatever demands he makes on my body. Sometimes it's about him just taking what is his, sometimes it's about me fighting to keep from being taken, sometimes it's about humiliation and degradation, and sometimes it's all of the above. I don't like anal sex, it simply isn't enjoyable to me and often leaves me feeling phyiscally ill, when we play with the Beast and the prey he'll force anal sex and I'll fight it. Sometimes he wins, sometimes I do. Again, I will agree that surely there are less dangerous activities that can be done to achieve this state but none are as satisfying for me and for all I know, for him too.

Part of one such scene stands out in my mind very clearly. It was a few years ago, I'd been b*tchy the night before and it carried over into the next morning; I was craving play and at the time wasn't very good at articulating my needs or wants so I often went without because I couldn't/wouldn't say "Please I need___" and then would have a poor attitude and bratty behavior because I was going without. Needless to say, he punished me for my behavior and attitude. In the process the Beast came out. He forced my mouth down onto his cock and held me there by my hair until I gagged, wrapped his hands around my neck and strangled me until I gagged and nearly vomitted, and had me get onto all fours and wrapped his belt around my neck and used it as a leash while he f*cked me using it to pull my head up. The belt cut off my air almost as well as his hands and cock did and this was erotic for me, I had an orgasm during this bit. After he finished, he removed the belt from my neck and sat on the bed while I lay there. He stroked my hair, my cheek, my body, soothing me, loving me. I remember sliding off the bed onto the floor and groveling at his feet, kissing them, and hugging his legs. Not from fear, not from a need to appease his anger (he wasn't angry), but in thanks for the correction and for using me. I was grateful for the attention and thoroughly enjoyed the orgasm I'd had. I was also grateful for the relief I felt afterwards, I was relieved of all stress and negativity I'd been feeling through that scene.

This is often the way the Beast manifests between us, it is almost always sexual, though I've known it to rear its head when he's feeling a little extra sadistic during S&M play at play parties (we don't have the privacy at home very often to do much S&M play).

If pushed to actually define this part of him I would say Master is a sexual sadomasochist with a major exception, most of the time he does want me to enjoy whatever he is doing where a true sexual sadist doesn't care about his/her counterpart's pleasure. The only time he's unconcerned with my pleasure is when the Beast is out and then I'm not concerned with my pleasure either.

I would guess that it is his love for me that keeps the Beast caged enough that he can keep it from harming me. Though it isn't perfect, the unintentional has happened. Although as many of us can attest, the unintentional can happen during any sort of play. This is why he and I ascribe to R.A.C.K (Risk Aware Consensual Kink) as opposed to S.S.C. A lot of S&M play is not safe. It can be made safer, yes, but not 100% safe. Sane? That's a very subjective term and each of us interprets it differently. Even consensual can be subjective because of consensual non-consent, some would see that as an abusive situation. I prefer a term that is less open to interpretation, not to mention, it does apply to us better than S.S.C. We're very aware of the risks of everything we do and don't usually consent to do a thing until we're aware of the risks. I mentioned breath control play a few paragraphs ago. When we realized it was a turn-on for both of us we researched it to learn about the dangers and to find if there were ways to make it safer.

I don't mean to sound careless about unintentional harm. There was an instance when the Beast was out where I was harmed, emotionally and mentally. It took time, work, and communication to heal those hurts but we did heal them and we learned from the experience. As a result we take more steps to minimize the risk of unintentional harm. For instance, we don't play after an argument. The argument must be completely over and resolved for both of us. Another safeguard is that he rarely (if ever) initiates this type of play. I go to him and ask for it, this ensures that my mindset is right for it and if he's not in the right mood/mindset we just don't go there. Physical harm hasn't really been a concern. He's not going to hit me, it's simply not his M.O. strangulation is, and he retains enough of himself that he is still able to respond to my signals of distress. The bottom line is that he doesn't want to harm or kill me and that is his override switch, it keeps him in control even though it may appear to be a tenuous control. He's also got a strong sense of self-preservation; he realizes that if the Beast ever got out of the cage the part that makes him who he is would die and the Beast would never go back into the cage. He likes himself, likes the man he's become, and wants to keep that alive.

I do feel the need to reiterate that I feel playing with the Beast is most certainly a dangerous activity, possibly moreso than anything else we (general we) do. I would never say otherwise. What I am saying is that Master and I have assessed the risk together and have decided that for us, the benefits outweigh the risks.