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.