ANGRY!!!!

And defeated.  That's how I feel today.  I got another no from the Mayo Clinic in Rochester last night in the mail, this time they just don't have the appointment space for me.  Then this morning I find out that my insurance company has denied the spinal cord stimulator as not being medically necessary.  Of course my doctor's office can appeal it but appeals can take up to 30 days.  I'm starting to wonder if I have to have a failed back surgery to make it medically necessary.

 

I'm going to ask my doctor to refer me to an orthopaedic surgeon here in town for one last try at surgery and I'm just going to force the issue.  I don't care if the doctor thinks it will help or what my odds of success are.  I just don't care anymore.  All I want is proper medical help and it seems like that's asking too much.  Alan says we'll get a lawyer and sue the insurance company to pay for the implant if the doctor's office appeal fails.  I don't know where he thinks we'd get the money for an attorney.

Feeling Whipped

I'm exhausted, wiped out, zapped, zoned, vegged, just plain worn out.  I'm tired of fighting for today.  My stomach hurts because I'm so stressed out and I'm stressing out over things I can't control and I know it's wrong.  I'm almost beyond caring.  It feels pointless to keep fighting sometimes.  It just seems like I'm not getting anywhere anymore.

 

I don't have any fight left in me today, maybe tomorrow will look better.

Negotiations

That's where we're at, Alan and I.  We're negotiating the terms of our continuing M/s relationship.  We're ironing out needs vs. wants and what we both feel is reasonable.

 

I have to giggle just a little here because his favorite show is The Dog Whisperer with Cesar Milan and nearly every time he explains something he uses dog pack mentality for his analogies.  Yesterday he was telling me that yes, he had given me too much leash and was letting me "walk" him instead of the other way around.  I giggled and told him I was just waiting to hear him imitate Cesar's accent, and of course, he obliged me.

 

It is true though, at least in our household.  I'm a beta but will be alpha if the alpha isn't alpha-enough.  As with dogs, human owners have to train human property to be submissive, they have to lead them in order to be followed.  So we're working and negotiating, not to get back to what we had but in order to move forward.  I think we've both realized just how badly our communication broke down and I think we will keep working at communicating more openly.  I'm still uncollared but I don't want it until he's ready, if and when he's ready to do so.  I want him to be firmly in the lead, I'm weary of leading, it's not my accustomed position.

Worthless

I feel worthless this morning.  I feel like I've given up part of my identity and I did it of my own free will.  Why?  Because I felt like he wasn't taking the reins, I felt like I had too much slack in the reins and after asking more than once for more consistency, and less slack, I got tired of asking.

 

I gave him his collar back and told him I needed him to decide if he really wanted to own me and if he did then I needed him to lead me instead of letting me lead.  I don't fear punishment.  He may threaten it but he doesn't follow through.  Maybe I'm not slave material, maybe I'm just a submissive playing at being slave.  I don't know.  I feel like I don't know who I am right now.

 

We're going to a play party tonight and I don't know how I'm supposed to behave, I don't know how to play with him as a submissive and not as a slave.  I just don't know and I'm confused as can be.  How do you use safewords you haven't had for years?  I'm so accustomed to playing with him as his slave that I don't know if I can code.  I'm so jumbled up inside I don't know if I can even get into the right headspace to play at all.  What if I just get angry instead of letting go and enjoying the scene?  What if I bring all this emotional crap with me to the party?  He'll be disappointed in me, more than he is already.

 

It hurt my feelings when he didn't immediately say "Of course I want to own you, let me put this collar back on."  He has to actually think about it and I'm scared that I've screwed up royally this time.  I may have ruined the best thing I ever had all because I felt I had needs that weren't being met.

 

Am I wrong in asking to have my needs met?  Am I wrong in asking for consistency or for direction?  I know the way I go about it sometimes, like last night, is wrong.  I disrespected him and I am deeply sorry for that.  I could have cut myself a million times as pennance for that mistake.  I'm just so frustrated and I feel like I have nowhere to turn to ease that frustration so it balls up inside me, I try to stuff it into the deepest corners of myself and ignore it.  But I only have so much room for stuffing things and I finally boil over, like I've been doing all week.  I get a good mad on and I don't care anymore about anyone else's needs but my own.  It's selfish and childish.

 

I'm not worthy of his collar, I know this now.  At best I can hope he'll still want me as his submissive but the truth is, I may have ruined that too.

Lost

I feel lost, like I've wandered away from my Daddy in the store, except he's wandered away from me and I can't find him.  It's Daddy who is lost, not me but it doesn't make me feel any less lost myself.  When my lil peeks out he seems almost angry with her.  I got angry with him on her behalf last night.  I said some things I wish I could take back but that doesn't mean they're not valid.

 

He used to love his lil girl and made her feel special and wanted.  Now she just feels like she's in the way and unwanted, unloved.  It hurts.  He snapped about something and being tired of "kid sh*t" and I reminded him that's what he's got so he may as well deal with it or else we'll find someone who can.  It wasn't fair to threaten like that and I really wish I could take that back.

 

But at the same time, what am I supposed to do?  I've been encouraged and even indulged with my lil, Daddy loved her.  What did she do wrong?  What did we do wrong that our Daddy doesn't love us anymore?

 

Maybe he's not a real Daddy for us, it was just "fun for a while" and now it's not fun anymore?  Maybe it's a phase, one he cycles in and out of?  I don't know.  What I want to know is what we're supposed to do in the meantime to feel whole and complete.

 

I wonder if I made a mistake in exploring this part of me now.  It's like a Pandora's box that can't be closed.  My lil needs to be loved, adored, and pampered.  She needs her Daddy and doesn't understand why he won't love her or play with her like he used to.  All the adult reasoning in the world doesn't change that base need.  I don't understand how he can shut it off, I thought he needed it too.  Now I feel like I misunderstood his intentions and got too wrapped up in something that was only a passing fancy for him.

 

I wonder about finding another Daddy, but neither of us wants another Daddy, we want the one we had, we want him back.  Maybe that's too much to ask for, we're just sad and lonely without him and wish we didn't get snapped at or yelled at when we're peeking out.

Something In The Air

What is it about the first snow and the impending holidays that seem to lift my spirit?  I feel that childlike wonder when I see the giant Christmas trees in the buildings around downtown.  I'm awed by the colorful lights and decorations and of course, the craftswoman in me is taking mental notes for home decoration.  (Master you might like a couple of the ideas I have, they'll make our tree really pretty!)

 

It's more than that though, I love spending time with family, sharing food with them as well as time.  Creating new memories.  The holidays may always be bittersweet from now on, we'll always miss Jamey but he's always with us so long as we remember him.

 

I hope to always have big family holidays, whether it be our own or our extended family.  That is what the holidays mean to me, family.

 

I'm overly eager to get things in the living room arranged so we can decorate the tree.  The kids and I always do the decorating and we have such fun doing it together.  This year I imagine we'll have lots of pictures since HRS got a new digital camera for her birthday.  She's become the family paparazzi and chases us all around to snap pictures.  Of course we nick the camera from her and get a few shots in ourselves. *evil grins*

 

I'm feeling very positive, sentimental, and a bit teary-eyed right now as I watch the snow falling outside my window.  Big fluffy flakes that get caught in your eyelashes and melt on your nose.  It's a beautiful sight.

Dark Night Of The Soul

Most people might not know what the Dark Night of the Soul means. Basically it's facing yourself, bare without the little lies we tell ourselves, facing our demons, everything, and coming out (hopefully) stronger and more self-aware for it. In Pagan traditions, or at least the one I learned in, this was usually done with more intent, though not always.

Last weekend was such a one for me and it was long, horrible, and terrifying. Yet here I am today, stronger, and definitely more self-aware. I thought for sure I was going crazy, I was completely out of control as my emotions ran rampant and took me over entirely. Master had the presence of mind to get me help when it was clear that I was beyond his aid.

Since then I've been making the journey back to me, to my center, to who I know myself to be. I'm bringing back some wisdom with me this time. I'm growing and evolving in the way I think, or at least I'm trying to. It's a process and a week isn't nearly long enough to prove anything by any means. It will get put to the test next week when I go back to work, and each day after that. Each time a new problem arises my new way of thinking will be tried and tested. I can't promise that I won't fall back into old patterns but I can promise to try to not do so.

I'm sick, you see. Not a sickness you can check the blood for, nor one that causes fever. No, it's a sickness of the mind and it takes a lot of cognitive re-training to heal. I've spent nearly my entire life with this sickness, since about the age of 7, but am only now getting the type of help I've needed all along. I'm not disclosing this fact for sympathy but to dispel the stigma we seem to attach to mental illness, still in this day and age. So yes, I'm mentally ill but I'm getting better. Maybe I'll relapse, maybe I won't, but I can no longer feel shame for something I can't control. It would be like having cancer and being ashamed of it. Silly huh?

Justice

Two families, two different viewpoints. On the one side there is much celebration and relief, justice has finally been served. On the other side there is sadness and a sense of loss, it doesn't feel like justice to them.

Today the jury came back with a unanimous decision of guilty in the first degree for our Jamey's murderer. He tried to weasel out of it, tried to claim self-defense, tried and failed. Our family has mixed feelings, on the one hand we're pleased with the verdict, on the other hand we still wish there had never been a need for it at all. Finding Eric Miller guilty of killing our Jamey won't undo what was done, it won't bring Jamey back to us no matter how much we may wish it. What I'm looking for in this verdict is closure. It's finally "over", his killer won't get away with it, he won't kill another innocent person, and I can move on through the grieving process.

I feel so much lighter in spirit this afternoon than I have in the past year. Relieved, released from the bondage of grief, reveling in this new sense of rightness.

I don't celebrate at the expense of his family, I don't wish them ill. But their Eric does belong in prison, taking responsibility for the cold-blooded and calculated murder he performed. He devastated our family, I know his own family is hurting too, they're bewildered by why or how he could do such a thing. But, isn't that always the way it goes? Those closest to a killer swear up and down that they're innocent, they'd never suspect him/her of doing such evil things, s/he would be the last person on Earth to do despicable acts to animals or other human beings. Yet, your loved one is capable of evil deeds. We all are, it's part of our human nature, what makes us good or bad people is how we decide to handle those darker urges. What we do with them.

Master doesn't always understand my compassion for others, even those who have wronged me. I just have no place in my heart for hatred anymore. What purpose does it serve? It makes me ill with constant anger, discontent, and thirsting for vengeance. Vengeance won't undo the deed, it won't return lost loved ones, all it does is hurt another human being and gives me more karma to burn off. It's a waste of energy in this girl's book.

To Eric's family, I'm sorry your son did what he did and I'm sorry for the loss you're feeling. However, I am overjoyed for our family, overjoyed that justice, as we see it, has been served. I feel hopeful again, hopeful about the future, and about life in general.

"A Hopi Prayer"

Do not stand

at my grave and weep.

I am not there,

I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints

on snow.

I am the sunlight

on the ripened grain.

I am the gentle

Autumn's rain.

When you awaken

in hte morning hush,

I am the swift

uplifting rush

of quiet birds in circled flight.

I am the soft stars

that shine at night.

Do not stand

at my grave and cry:

I am not there,

I did not die.

This is where my thoughts are today. The above poem is from a card I'll be mailing to the widow of a family friend who passed away just yesterday. I feel a very strong call back to my Pagan roots. I need to be with Nature in hopes of finding some sort of peace and understanding.

There has been so much death in the last year and I'm not seeing any re-birth, I'm feeling somewhat dead inside myself. Master tells me it is only temporary, hang in there, it will pass. But it's not passing and I'm becoming sadder with each new death. Much like a child I can't seem to comprehend that these people are truly gone from this world, from this life. Whenever I think about them my grief is like a freshly opened wound and hurts as much as it did the very first day.

Much as the poem says, they are still here, that which is remembered lives. If only I could bring myself to remember without the heartache.

The Importance of Boundaries and Consistency

I've realized, over the past few days, just how important having boundaries and consistency in enforcing those boundaries is in a D/s or M/s relationship. The boundaries or rules are an integral part of these types of relationships, without them you've got what? A vanilla romance with some kinky sex? Being inconsistent in enforcing those boundaries or rules brings us right back to the vanilla romance with kinky sex and a confused s-type who doesn't know when or what to obey.

Over the years I've come to understand that I need boundaries and structure to thrive. I need consistency too or else I feel as if I'm just drifting along with no purpose or guidance. These are two of the main ingredients, if you will, of a M/s relationship for me. Sometimes I crave more restrictions than my Master is interested in placing upon me. I have to try to make peace with that and accept his decision or drive myself crazy with craving and being unhappy as a result. I don't feel that leaving him, or seeking another partner, is a viable option. He is my one and only Master and I'm willing to accept his limits as my own in order to be his slave.

But, when he's not on his game and enforcing the rules and boundaries he has laid down I sort of drift away from my game too, then we're both off. I think we both feel the absence of the dynamic but get complacent and we don't talk about it until we've got to do a lot of rowing to get back to shore. That's where we're at right now, rowing back to shore and trying to do it in sync. I'd like to hurry the trip because I'm happy when we're on the same page and both on our games but I need to follow his lead and go at his pace or else I'm just Topping from the bottom, which is just plain old counterproductive.

I'm working on keeping a positive attitude and so far so good. In the past I'd be pessimistic and cynical about the whole thing. We seem to drift off course pretty often but we also get ourselves back on course just as often. I think that's part and parcel of a growing M/s relationship. We have a huge hurdle to jump, that of our history as a married couple. It's so much easier to just be husband and wife, especially when we're tired or in pain, or whatever. During times of stress, illness, or upset we both just slip so easily into husband and wife roles and begin cutting each other slack for the slip.

I wish I could find the one thing that will keep us from making that slip or at least keep us from slipping too far. I asked him yesterday if we could take time together each day to just reconnect. It doesn't have to be fancy, we don't have to engage in SM play, we don't even have to say anything. I'd be happy with him sitting on the bed while I kneel at his feet with my head in his lap for a few moments. We're talking more now and I'm going to do my best to keep talking. I've made some serious effort in this department and have been saying things that in the past I would only write about. Maybe this time we'll stay on course and won't drift as much.

Loss

"You can't read loss, only feel it."

Did I ever feel it on Saturday. Last week was a very rough week and it all hit me Friday night through Saturday afternoon. I was angry, sad, scared, and despairing. I felt sure that because I can no longer submit to heavy impact on my back that I would lose part of my relationship with my Master. I know he needs to play hard and heavy from time to time and I thrilled in being able to serve him in that way while also getting my need for that type of play met. He will play with others to meet that need while mine will have to be suppressed. I'm always so conflicted too, I'm a mass of contradictions. I want to be the serene and selfless slave that only wants her Master's happiness. The one that doesn't feel jealousy and envy is just a mild feeling that breaches the surface of emotions then resubmerges never to be seen again. But I'm not. I'm just me, with all my faults, issues, and baggage. I fear loss. I fear that I'm going to lose more than I can bear to lose.

Not being able to do something doesn't mean that I don't still need it or want it. It just means I have to go without that particular thing and it is painful to watch him give that thing to another. In this case the thing is heavy impact, aka punching. I LOVED being able to play hard with him, it felt so good. I loved being punched, I still do but I am scared that, with the degenerative disc disease, it is dangerous to do any heavy impact even if the spine area is avoided. I found out Monday that I've got a thoracic disc that is bulging forward slightly, it isn't degenerated yet but it is on its way to going bad. I'm concerned that the punching is the cause of this particular disc beginning to bulge.

I'd really fallen into the black pit of despair, mired down in it, almost but not quite wallowing in the muck. I cried it all out, sometimes in Master's arms, sometimes not. He was concerned about taking me to visit the Tribe that night because he wasn't sure if I'd be OK, especially if he decided to play with another person there. After a revelation from him and realizing that I've been a complete pain in the butt, I promised that I would behave and I was true to my word. I wasn't kidding when I said I really want to be selfless. I do want him to be happy and I understand that to be happy he may want, or need, to play with others. I just have trouble with the application of that particular behavior. My emotions get in the way and unfortunately emotions are not always rational, at least mine aren't.

We had a great time together Saturday night. I was well-enough to play and it was wonderful. He pushed me, like he always does, to take what he had to offer. He pushed me to the edge of my control and then beyond until I was a quivering, sobbing, begging, thing, eager to do whatever it would take to end the pain. It was release, sweet cathartic release, and it did me a world of good. It restored my confidence and reassured me that we can still play together. Later on he did indeed play with someone else. It was a group effort and despite my intention to just sit and watch I joined in. The back and forth joking and laughter contrasted with the intense impact play we were engaged in and built some amazing energy. It all ended with our subject laughing and giggling almost uncontrollably. In all, it was amazing and very enjoyable. I hadn't been feeling sadistic at all and I surprised myself, as well as everyone else. Everyone kept talking about how mean I am so I had to get some Happy Bunny socks that say "I'm not mean you're just a sissy". *grins*

My life has never been easy so it would be silly to expect it to start being easy now. But, I can be silly from time to time and I'm thankful that I have people around me who will give me a "gentle" nudge to knock it off.

Scared

Today is the day. I see the surgeons and I'm scared. I'm scared they'll say no to surgery and I'm scared they'll say yes. One answer will crush my hopes and the other will terrify me to my core. In just a few short hours I will know one way or the other if I'll be having surgery. I hope too that I'll know when if they decide to do it. I should be working on my list of questions to ask them but my mind is blank. All I can do is sit here, do my work, and hope I can remain calm enough to make it through the work day.

I'm at once impatient and not. I'd like time to go by so I can get this over with. Much like a band-aid, just rip it off so it's over quickly. I've done so much waiting that I'm tired of it but it doesn't seem like such a bad thing this morning.

I can't help but worry about how surgery will change my life, both bad and good. Success or failure, my life will be forever changed as will the lives of my partners in the way they relate to me.

Master and I haven't been Master and slave in much more than name for far too long. Of course he still has the final say and I still obey him but I don't serve much, he doesn't ask much, and he doesn't hold me accountable very often. A failed surgery and that may become a permanent situation. The thought of that possibility fills me with despair and I shy away from the thoughts.

A successful surgery should improve things, I should be able to serve him as I once did, I should have a lot less pain and would then be able for SM play again. I'm afraid to hope.

Goofs

Last night I goofed, in front of HRS. Alan told me to do something and I immediately responded with "Yes Sir" as soon as it was out of my mouth I was correcting it with "Dear". I don't know which was worse but she didn't comment about it. It just seems to me that making the hasty correction like I did might have given her the idea that I was hiding something. In reality, yes I am hiding something from her, the entirety of my relationship with her father but that's for her own good. She's still at the age where boys are gross and she has no interest in relationships and she definitely doesn't want to know any intimate details about her parents' relationship.

Maybe I should have just stuck with the "Sir" and let it alone. At worst she'd have thought I was weird or at best that I was just kidding around, which I do a lot.

True Dreams

I woke up from a horrible nightmare yesterday morning. It felt so real that until I was well and truly awake it felt like it was true. I'd been dreaming about going out for ice cream with my youngest, my sister and her kids. I was having an especially nice time with my youngest nephew in particular, we had a great chat and lots of giggles. I return to my mother's house to find her sitting in the living room bawling. Immediately I know something is terribly wrong. I'm finally able to get out of her that my youngest nephew was killed in a car accident shortly after our visit together. He'd been riding in a car and talking about the fun he'd had and that it was the best day ever and that the only thing that would make it better would be taking a walk. The drivers (unknown) had to pull over on the side of the road for some reason. A vehicle veered off the road and hit the car on the side my nephew was sitting on, killing him instantly.

The dream felt so real that I was almost afraid to call my sister, I didn't want to find out I'd dreamed true. I've had true dreams before, none so prophetic or catastrophic. Mostly just dreaming of places I've never been to then visiting them and feeling a very strong sense of deja vu, or a conversation or event that hadn't happened and feeling that same sense of deja vu when it does take place. So yes, I'll admit I was spooked for a while. I'm still feeling a bit skittish and off-kilter today. I haven't seen this nephew in a long time and it could be that the dream is indicating a loss of contact with him. It could even be a wake-up call that I need to make an effort to see him.

Either way, I hate dreams like this.

Blank

I wish I had something good to write about. We don't have hot or sexy SM scenes. The M/s is still there but not in any fun sexy ways. Yesterday I was in the midst of a 48 hour long panic/anxiety attack. He had to be tough with me and made me clean myself up and go to the store with him. Had I been given the choice I'd have stayed home curled up in my nest of pillows and blankets. But no matter how crazy I am, the drive to obey him is always present.

I've fantasized about scenes I'd love...such as him coming home to find his lil girl lying on her tummy on the bed, coloring in her favorite coloring book, her pigtails bouncing in time with the swinging of her legs. She squeals "Daddy!!" when he walks in, stands up on the bed to give him a big sloppy kiss and monster hug. She shows him her picture and tells him about how she's got a funny ache between her legs....He talks to his little girl about the feelings she's having, explaining how special they are and that she can only share them with her Daddy as he explores her body.

Or he orders me upstairs, naked, and kneeling waiting for him. He enters the room, grabs a fistfull of my hair and leads me, crawling, to the bathroom. He stops me next to the commode with the command to kneel up and stay. He pulls his penis out to urinate into the commode. Just as he's finishing he saves a little bit, turns, orders me to open my mouth and finishes urinating in my mouth, expecting me to swallow and clean his cock off. He stands me up then and feels the soaking wetness between my legs from being used that way. He then leads me to the bed, bends me over and gives me a thorough spanking for enjoying it so much, after which he has me kneel and suck his cock until he decides to f*ck me.

*sigh*

A fertile imaginiation and all it does is torture me with things I can't seem to get right now.

I Miss It

It feels like ages since Master and I have played and I really miss it. Sometimes I crave chocolate so badly that I can almost taste it. I'm craving a spanking in the same way. I want to whimper and beg when Master teases me with a light swat on the behind. There have been instances where I have stuck my bottom out, inviting more. It's always a tease, because he hasn't been able to give me a proper spanking. We rarely have time to ourselves and when we do we're both too tired to do a thing about it.

The reality of 24/7 M/s isn't nearly as fun as the fantasy. I'd give quite a bit to be able to live some of the fantasy. Okay, that's not true, I can't back that up. It just seems like we had the ideal life and we've lost it somewhere along the way.

And yet, my feelings are mixed. Once upon a time I served my Master domestically, sexually, and we played fairly regularly. Only, I struggled a lot with obedience and surrender. I've changed in the last few months. For the better I think. I feel surrendered to him, I love serving him as I'm able and I feel sad when there is something I can't do for him. I feel a calmness inside that wasn't there before. I wouldn't want to have the life we did have at the expense of this change, this calmness. I would like to find a way to have both, to keep this calmness and state of surrender while re-incorporating the life we had, thus creating an improved, more complete M/s relationship.

Sometimes the prospect seems improbable, there are so many challenges facing us right now and I wonder if we'll be able to overcome all of them. I wonder too if he misses what we had and if he wants it back. He never says one way or the other so I never know what's going on behind those laughing eyes. Do you miss the SM Master? Do you miss the way things were? Do you long for a return to what we once had or an improvement on it like I do? Do you miss being served to the extent you once were? Do you miss the ritual we did when I got home from work? I do. I miss it all, I want it all back, somehow.

Epiphanies Blog Entry 8/23/07

Hello again.  Long time no type eh?  Life has been a bit hectic lately what with getting testing done and trying to get a consultation with the neurosurgeons scheduled.  I'm one step closer to hopefully getting this old back of mine fixed.  I have a consultation scheduled for the first of October.  Patience, I'm trying to make that my middle name but it isn't working so well.  I want it all done, now, now, now.  Too bad the doctors don't agree with me huh?

 

This week has been one filled with epiphanies, or what I like to call 2x4 moments.  You know, it's that point in time when it feels as if the Universe has just whacked you up along side the head with a 2x4 giving you a clarity you'd been struggling toward.

 

Yep, that's me, beat up with the Universe's 2x4 and a few things are clear as a bell.  It's funny how you know something but don't know it, know what I mean?  For instance, I know my mother favored my youngest sister over me and that she never really gave me approval, affection, or love.  But I didn't know it in a way that gave me insight into certain insecurities and dysfunctions of mine, insight into their origins.

 

While reading and attempting to craft a response to a question about jealousy it hit me (the 2x4).  All of this jealousy and insecurity started when I was a child.  I spent my early childhood attempting to jump through impossible hoops to earn approval and love that should have been given unconditionally and being compared to my youngest sister and coming up short every time.  Mom made it clear early on that she didn't want me and that she adored my sister.  She was her "social butterfly".  I was only a good child if I was neither seen nor heard.  I got praised for being quiet and shy so I perfected that.  People didn't know I existed until I hit my teen years, then all the anger that had built up over the years sort of boiled over into a rebellion that lasted for many years.

 

Still... knowing all this, knowing where it started, how it started, and why doesn't give me the first clue in dismantling the dysfunction and insecurities.  I've got love, real love, given freely and abundantly, but I'm scared to lose it.  I still suffer those feelings of being unworthy, undeserving, and not good enough even though I try to counter them with positives when I feel threatened.  What makes me feel threatened?  The idea or possibility that someone else may be given attention and love that I territorially think of as "mine".

 

You'd think that as self-aware as I am I'd be able to "fix" this problem wouldn't you?  Master does, sort of.  He believes I should feel more than secure and I agree with him.  I should feel secure in his love and with my position in his life and I do, unless a situation comes up where another individual earns some of his attention (sexual or emotional).  Then I feel as if the rug has been pulled out from beneath me, I start feeling physically ill, and I panic.  Hmm, how to fix that?  Still working on that answer.

 

I'm certain though that knowing the origins of all of this will help me somehow.  I can't help but wonder though, am I psychologically and emotionally damaged due to what my mother did?  Will it always be a struggle with me?  Only time will tell.

 

Epiphany #2

 

I think I've stated it here before, that I just cannot attain the "flying" sub space that lots of folks talk about.  I have a theory that this type of sub space is a mild form of disassociation, among other things.

 

I am unable to disassociate and up until Monday I thought I'd never been able to, ever.  On Monday it just hit me that in elementary school, grade 3 I think, I was majorly disassociating from life.  In the middle of a class, instead of doing my school work I'd play in my fantasy world.  I lived in my head, I had a very vivid imagination and was happy there.  It was so severe that they sent me to a special school that included regular therapy sessions.  I learned through the experience that disassociating was bad.  Ever since then I've been unable to do it.  I am always mentally present, even when being somewhere else would be/have been a blessing.

 

I thought, for a long time that I was broken somehow.  I thought maybe I was doing "it" wrong.  Even after reading the article at leatherNroses.com about not "flying" I still felt uncomfortable about the way I process pain play.  I realize now that I'm not broken, just overly dramatic. *wry grins*  Not flying makes me a perfect match for my Master who likes my responsiveness.  During S/m play we create a space together, we build energy together, it ebbs and flows between us.  I don't know how well that would work if I were somehow disconnected, even a tiny bit, from the entire experience.  I love being able to push myself to take more for him and then revel in the afterglow as we cuddle together.  So, enough of this "grass is greener" thinking.  My grass is a lovely shade of green and it's about time I start appreciating it. 

Vivid

My head falls back, eyes beginning to roll back as my eyelids flutter closed, my womb clenches, labia swelling and tingling as moisture starts to seep from within. My memory is vivid, remembered pleasure at Master's hands, so vivid that I can almost feel it again and again with each remembering. The memory overtakes me, my body begins to writhe, my fingers and toes clench, even as I drive, I have to fight my body's natural reactions, fight to remain focused on the present..

I thrill with the remembered feeling of his swollen cock thrusting deeply into me, the large head rubbing every sensitive spot inside, filling me with an aching need for a release that may be days away...my breathing quickens as I recall the sight of him kneeling over me, his hands gripping my flesh, pulling me to him even as he thrusts into me, his eyes locked on me as he strives toward his release, revelling in the sensations... his pace quickens, I feel my hips rocking back and forth as if he were inside me at this very moment, his release is close...

Another memory, no less vivid... lying on my back, legs spread, Master sitting between my legs, his hard cock resting against my foot, fingers inside me, exploring, rubbing, pulling, pushing, my muscles clench around his fingers as if to hold him there forever... I feel my nipples harden, remembering the sheer ecstasy of imminent release... a tingling deep inside spreading outward, engulfing my whole body, head rocking back and forth, hips rising up from the bed thrusting against his hand needing more, hand clawing at the air then the bedsheets as the orgasm rolls over me like a tsunami, unstoppable, a force of nature that leaves me drenched and limp after..

I remember so vividly that I feel it again, and again, and again, desire building upon desire.

Holding Pattern

7/16/07

Right now we're living in a holding pattern. I sent my supervisor a detailed e-mail last week about my situation and the need for surgery. She forwarded it on to our manager and we were to talk about it this week. Unfortunately he had a family tragedy come up this week and has been out of the office all week. So, I'm waiting to find out if I'll lose my job if I have surgery before I've worked here a full year.

-----update 7/20/07------

It's the following week and I'm set to speak with my manager tomorrow about my situation. I'm nervous about getting my hopes up only to have them dashed. The pessimist in me says that tomorrow he's going to tell me that it'd be better to wait until I've worked here a year.

-----update 7/24/07-----

Well, we met this morning and I've got the green light to get started planning for surgery. I was really surprised at the reception I got. They like me, they like the work I do, and they really appreciate me. I felt my head swelling larger and larger with each compliment. lol


Actually it did feel good to get that kind of praise. I do work very hard and push myself to work hard even when I'm in pain or having a horrible day.


So, no more waiting to find out if I can start planning. Now it's waiting to get appointments made and paperwork filled out. Yippee! Yeah, that's me excited about painful tests and excruciating paperwork. What I'm really excited about is the possibility of FINALLY getting my back fixed! I want to have a life again. I want to be able to do something on the weekends other than lay around, sleep, and be in pain. I want to enjoy my evenings with my family instead of eating dinner and passing out in front of the TV. I want to have more sex with my Master instead of putting it off because I'm exhausted or in pain. The same goes for SM play too. I really miss SM, I miss serving in ways other than bringing home a paycheck.


These past several months have been rough and Master has worked hard to prevent me from dwelling on the negatives. We've got a lot of hard work ahead of us still but hopefully we'll see a day where my pain is at least drastically reduced, if not eliminated altogether.


----Update 7/25/07-----

On 8/9/07 I will have a discogram (really isn't as fun as it may sound) and then will be referred on to speak with a surgeon. It finally hit me yesterday after I made the appointment. It's real. I'm really going to do this, no more talking about it. I had a few moments of panic, more than a few really. I felt sick to my stomach and trapped. I just wanted to run home and curl up on the couch with my favorite blankie and watch Shrek. The panic passed and I started focusing on planning and getting the ducks all in a row with insurance, etc.

Last night, in bed, Master and I talked about the possibilities. I shared my fears and it felt good to say them out loud. I'm terrified of something going horribly wrong and ending up in a wheelchair. I'm also scared that we're going to find out that the nerve damage is more extensive once the pressure on the nerves is relieved. Master still thinks I'm focusing on the negatives but I hope he understands, at least a little bit, that I'm just trying to be realistic. The things I'm afraid of are real possibilities, even if some are remote. Given my track record and health, I don't seem to have the best of luck so yes, I do think about what could go wrong.

Master did make a good point, one I don't like but is no less true, my back pain issues are my fault to some degree. As Master says, "your body is a temple and yours has been littered". I can accept and own that. I guess it's time to clean up the temple a bit, redecorate, maybe a little landscaping too. That's what this surgery will mean for me, it is a step toward changing my landscape (weight, physical fitness).

Rolling With the Punches

It seems like I'm back to square one and I'm frustrated by it. The pain is back in full-force; it feels like things are getting worse. I cannot serve as much as I did, he rarely asks me to do anything for him now. He compensates by doing everything for himself and doing all the housework himself too. I hate it. I love that he's so understanding and accepts my limitations for what they are and adapts to them. I am grateful to him for this. I just hate the necessity of it all. Mostly, I hate the pain and I hate that it has such control over me and my life despite all my best efforts to push beyond it. I am sleepy almost constantly, I fall asleep almost immediately after dinner some nights. On the weekends I wake late and nap within hours of waking. I hate this most of all, it feels as if I'm sleeping my life away. Yuck.

Soon we'll begin to explore the options, soon. But can I hold on for another month, two, maybe three? Yes, I can. When there is no other choice you just grit your teeth and gut it out. Do what you can with what you've got.

I am very thankful to have Master in my life. He walks through these rough spots with me, carrying me when I cannot walk, making me walk when I can but am afraid to, and encouraging me every step of the way.

In the next month or two I'm going to need Master's strength and discipline to shed the pounds I've gained back. I need to begin to swim regularly too, I'm hoping he can encourage me to do so. I'm going to have to enlist the support of HRS in this one, she's a swim fanatic so it shouldn't be too hard to get her to keep at me. Once I'm in the pool I'm happy to be there, it's just getting me there that's difficult.

This stuff, this day to day stuff is what no one thinks about when they're thinking about D/s or M/s relationships. In a 24/7 D/s or M/s relationship it is much the same as a marriage, in sickness and in health, through good times and bad. You have to roll with the punches and through it all, work to maintain the type of relationship you've cultivated instead of letting it go to weeds because of the rough times.

Bursting With It...

I am, bursting with it, really. What is it? Pride. I'm bursting with pride. Our oldest daughter has officially graduated and earned her high school diploma. She didn't do it the traditional way but still she did it. Last night was her graduation ceremony and I sat there clapping loudly for her as she walked across the stage and accepted her diploma. When they had the graduates stand and face the audience and said "I now present you with the 2007 graduates" the clapping and cheering was deafening. My eyes were filled with tears as she smiled happily up at us.

She did it, we didn't have anything to do with it, this was all her. She's a spectacular girl.

There were a few poignant moments during the ceremony. The most moving was when a student who passed away just a month after earning his diploma was honored. They awarded his diploma, posthumously, to his mother. It was touching and heartwrenching all in one. I thought it was wonderful that they honored him in that way but I was sad for her loss. I'm still a little misty today just thinking about it.

It was funny, the guest speaker used a children's book as the focus of her speech. She used the sequel to The Little Engine That Could, I Knew You Could. The story talks about hills and valleys and how hard things may be but how good they can be too. It was ironic, she said something Master always says, without the bad we wouldn't know what good was. I hope LMR (Little Miss Raincloud, who isn't so rainy anymore) took some of that speech to heart, I know I did.

So here I am this morning, proud mother of a high school graduate. There were times I thought it was never going to happen. There were even times I thought I didn't care anymore because I was so frustrated with her. She's like water our LMR, she carves her own way where it looks like there is none instead of taking the well-travelled path.

Watch Out...

"Gobble, gobble, gobble! It's just words darling!" Have you ever noticed that people use too many words? They take forever to get to the point and say what they mean. It's maddening. Really. I've been grumpy this week and my tolerance for people who are stuck on stupid has plummeted to next to nil.


I'm coming to the realization that I may not have a choice, I may not get to put off surgery until the first of next year. Time will tell but all the early signs are pointing to a developing tolerance to the higher dosage of pain medication. This realization is behind my grumpiness. Okay, that and some serious sex and SM cravings. We've had a bit of a drought due to Master working all month long and my higher pain levels. These things just don't contribute to an amorous environment.

I'm frustrated and stressed. Master says focus on the positive so I try. I try to not let the pain and exhaustion get me down and that isn't always easy. I get so worn down that my emotions get frayed and my control over them is less than optimal. I'd get more rest if I could but if I go to bed any earlier I may as well give up life all together. I barely spend any time with Master and HRS as it is. I'm already going to bed at 9:00, sometimes as early as 8 or 8:30 if I've fallen asleep watching TV. Sometimes I feel like a little kid. I don't want to go to bed early, I want to stay up because I don't want to miss the fun, whatever that might be.

So that's where I am today. I'm still working on getting pictures of Master's collar so I can share here. It's been a blessing. Master has incorporated it into helping me not binge on junk foods. Whenever I have the urge I'm to touch his collar and remember who owns me and who makes the rules. So far so good.

Surprise!

He got me good on Wednesday. With a surprise that is. He was out on the patio cooking our dinner and I came out to visit him only to find him sitting at our new 3 piece patio set with a pleased Cheshire Cat smile on his face.


I love when he surprises me like that. It's just so obvious that he genuinely enjoys being able to get gifts for me/us and to surprise me with them. The smile in his eyes is a gift all by itself, it's one I spent many years longing to see. I'm overjoyed to see it now and often. My heart felt bursting with love as I watched him grin and wiggle with delight over the surprise.

We've enjoyed evenings just sitting out there while he grills our dinner after I get home from work. I'm looking forward to my first weekend of being able to enjoy breakfast on the patio in the morning sunshine. I've become a sunshine junkie in some ways. I crave it and I make sure to soak up a little every day if I can. I take pleasure in the feel of it on my skin with a fresh breeze blowing through my hair. If you take the time you can really smell life in the air at this time of year. It smells of fresh earth and green things growing, heaven.

So yeah, I'm looking forward to lots of patio time this summer and fall. Master even got us a bug zapper so our evenings won't be plagued with flying biting things. He calls it cheap entertainment. lol

Mindful

Today I am ever mindful of my status. As I stepped off the elevator I touched the base of my throat and thought to myself "My Master is with me."

Yesterday Master gifted me with a daily collar that he made for me out of hematite & silver metal beads. It is beautiful, to say the least. The light weight of it is a constant reminder of its presence, and his. I have to agree with Master (even if it is a bit vain of me) it looks lovely around my neck. It feels good there, a solid yet gentle weight, putting me in mind of his hand as he holds onto the back of my neck while sitting together somewhere or even while walking through a store.

Hematite is special to him. He had a necklace, a claw holding a ball of hematite just a bit smaller than a marble. He wore that necklace for many, many years. When he was deep in thought he'd fondle the hematite stone, rolling it between his fingers. He felt naked and panicked if he forgot to put it on, thinking he'd lost it. We're both believers in energy and objects collecting energy. A bit of his energy is stored in that necklace and it now rests with his youngest brother. He placed it with him during the family's private viewing, next to his heart for safekeeping. So, he chose Hematite for his slave's collar making it himself and imbuing it with some of his energy.

He presented it to me yesterday when I got home from work and after he sized it, he finished it and placed it around my neck. It comes off only at bedtime and goes right back on after I've showered for the day.

I feel him with me through the collar and I am comforted by it. I feel very honored that he chose a stone for this collar that is so significant to him. Looking into his eyes yesterday it seemed that the collar is very meaningful to him too. He would look at me while stroking my neck and the collar, his eyes brimming with love and affection, smiling and not saying a word.

Making a daily collar for me had a bonus side effect too, Master has found that he enjoys jewelry making. He's planning a matching bracelet to my collar and will be making a bracelet for HRS, at her request. I'm happy that he's found a creative outlet that he enjoys so much. We now have one more commonality, which can't help but make me happy.

Don't Panic!

I don't know what happened yesterday. I'm still as baffled by it as I was when it happened. We were playing along fine, not doing anything new, and then wham, I freaked out and all reason left me. I wasn't thinking, I wasn't feeling, I was just not present. I flailed about but didn't actually try to defend myself or fend him off. It seems now as if I didn't have any control over my body. My mind was gone and in its absence the body just went crazy.

Master seems certain it was panic because I was blindfolded and I rely on my sight very heavily. In part, I think this is true but I don't think that is the whole of it. I'd been blindfolded for quite some time lying on my belly while he worked my backside over. It was when he rolled me over onto my back, sobbing from what he'd done to my backside, that the fear really set in. Then he bent over, his face close to mine, probably nearly touching as I could feel his breath as it whooshed out of his nostrils. He ordered me to open my mouth and he spit into it, ordering me to swallow it. This is something we've done many times but somehow, being blindfolded made it terrifying. I struggled to comply, gagging as I did so. He spit again and that's when it happened. Maybe it was panic, it's just not panic like I've ever experienced it before. I couldn't verbalize, my eyes were shut tight behind the blindfold, my legs flopping around as my arms and hands twitched and flailed helplessly on either side of my head. I wasn't restrained in any way, just lying blindfolded on the bed on my back.

He instantly removed the blindfold, I couldn't open my eyes, was afraid to I think. He ordered me to open them, he had to repeat the command a couple of times I think, before I complied momentarily. It seemed to take me a long time to be able to open my eyes and keep them open. It took even longer to get my breathing under control, which prolonged my panicked feelings. He was so calm and in control as he ordered me to breathe slowly and to look at him. "In through your nose and out through your mouth slooooowly" Each shaky exhalation a little slower than the last. It took a while before I got my hands under control; they always seem to begin to twitch when I panic and don't stop until it's completely passed.

Sometimes I think he's the only person in the world who can gentle me down as quickly and efficiently as he did yesterday. He knows me so well and has a broad knowledge of human psychology. He never seems surprised or ruffled by anything,his sense of calm is soothing to me.

He sat down next to me on the bed once I was calmer and petted and soothed me to help settle me down even more. Once I was breathing more normally he pulled me up and held me to him, cuddling me and reminding me that I was safe and I was with him. He's been with me through enough flashbacks and body memories to know I need that reminder to help ground me in the here and now.

That's probably the worst thing about panic, you loose your sense of who you are and where you're at. If it's a panic brought on by flashbacks you're actually reliving the experience. Just writing about all of this has me feeling a bit jittery and panicky, it's so easy to bring a panic on by just remembering how it feels. I hate that.

Later on, over lunch, I explained to him that I think it was a combination of things that caused my reaction yesterday. I thought it was just a combination of being blindfolded and having him in my face (I'm claustrophobic) that set it off. I'm sure now there was one more deciding factor. Being on my back, having my nude front exposed always makes me feel vulnerable, then add a blindfold and trigger my claustrophobia... it makes sense today.

He made sure I didn't think of it as a failure and that I knew he wasn't disappointed in me or in such a swift ending of the scene. His reassurances helped me recover and continue on in another direction. Then we spent the rest of our day doing some much-needed shoe shopping and having a nice quiet lunch at a favorite restaurant. After that was family time and Master's excellent barbequed pork chops, smoked with applewood. The house still smelled of applewood smoke and peppers this morning when I woke up. Soothing scents indeed, reminding me just how fortunate and blessed I am.

No, yesterday wasn't a failure, it was a lesson. Things may not always go to plan, adapt, modify, and overcome when they don't.

Age Play, Not Just A Role

Maybe I assumed it, but I thought he understood and knew exactly where I was coming from. When we first started doing this he would tell me to "grow up" to signal he needed me in grown up head space once again. To me that signifies understanding on some level. I guess I read him all wrong on this one. Maybe it was wishful, or hopeful, thinking. I wanted so badly for someone to understand and to know I'm not crazy, I'm not mentally ill, and I don't have multiple personalities. This is just another facet of me.

I often think of a prism when I consider my personality, there are many facets, none of them are whole by themselves. Sometimes I can "focus" on one facet, my inner kid, and that becomes the dominant part of my personality for a period of time. My inner kid is still me, it isn't another part of me, doesn't have a different name, different body, or different personality. It's just me, only younger, more vulnerable, more pliable, and more playful.

I sink into a childlike state of mind and sometimes I can get "stuck" in that state of mind. I don't know why, it just happens. I try to control it. I try to keep it in check and only let little bits out every now and then because it's usually not an appropriate time to let it out. Last night I let it out a little when I begged Daddy to let me watch a movie I wanted to see. I even went in to promise him I'd be a good girl and that I'd make him happy (in this case a euphamism for offering sex). I felt like he "got" where I was in my headspace but looking back, I'm not sure he did. The only signs, as far as I'm aware, are my speech patterns, word usage, and body language. Unless I'm dressed for it, which includes pigtails, Hello Kitty barrettes, and specific clothing, there are no other (to my knowledge) signs that I'm in a lil head space.

Last night I got stuck in lil head space. At first I thought Daddy and I were going to cuddle on the couch for a little bit but he wanted to go up to bed. So I finished the stuff I was doing and came up to bed too. The problem started when he wanted sex with his wife/slave not his lil girl. I tried hard to grow up and be what he wanted but I just couldn't seem to do it. He was unaware of my growing distress because I sort of shut down and withdrew. I tried to be brave, tried to not get upset. Unfortunately my emotions got away from me.

Afterwards I felt as if I'd had the rug pulled out from under me. I'd believed all along that he knew what ageplay was for me, I thought too that it was similar for him. He thought all along that it was the same for me as it was for him. That while it wasn't exactly just role play or "pretend", it wasn't exactly "real" either. Apparently we missed something in our communications about the subject. Maybe we were both too focused on our mutual enjoyment and avoiding causing further traumas or triggering old ones.

I'm thankful he kept at me until I was able to talk about it. He let me cry it out and then held me while we talked. I was so scared. I thought for sure that since he hadn't known that it was real for me that he'd think I was mentally ill or that it was a multiple personality issue. I hesitate to write this because of possible misunderstandings. I don't want to be thought of as mentally ill because I'm not. Multiple personality disorder, aka Disassociative Identity Disorder, is a disorder where the facets of a personality fracture into separate and individual personalities as a means of coping with traumatic situations (generally happening in childhood). Granted, I've had some traumatic childhood experiences but I've never been able to disassociate in any way other than to sort of shut down and not actively participate in what is going on. I've always, always been mentally present through everything including those traumatic experiences. As a side note, I think this inability to disassociate plays a hand in my not "flying" in sub space like others have described. I'm just always there.

I don't know where we'll go from here. He said that if he's not in the mood to be Daddy and I was in lil head space he would be happy to cuddle me. I want to trust that he means this but I'm kind of scared. I misunderstood him before, what if I am misunderstanding this time? Part of me wants to keep my inner kid under lock and key now, never expressing that side of me again. Last night was upsetting, and scary. I don't like feeling that way and I don't like being stuck in lil head space without Daddy.

Duh!

I had a 2x4 moment today while reading through my s-type only e-mail list. It was while reading a response to a question about how to separate one's submission from one's daily life that it happened. The responder stated that there are so many things we do each day that are acts of service, though we may not see them as such, they still are.

He has been saying much the same thing to me for the past six months, just not in as many words. It seems to have been a gradual process that ended with a sudden "Duh! Now I get it!"

It felt like I'd zoomed way out and had a bird's eye view of the bigger picture of my life with the Boss.

My working full-time has had some very positive benefits that far outweigh the perceived negatives. The Boss has told me over and over that by working full-time I've taken some serious stress off his shoulders. He no longer worries about what might happen to me and our youngest daughter should something happen to him. He has a lot more money to make ends meet with. But more than that, a benefit I'm not sure he's made the connection to, his blood pressure. It's always been high and has never really been controllable with medication, at one point they had him on three different medications which left him with very little quality of life because he was so sleepy all the time. He'd stopped taking them all because he didn't like the side effects or the cost. Just a few months ago he saw his doctor and his blood pressure was normal, all by itself! The next visit did see his blood pressure a bit elevated and the doctor put him on one medication. The next visit, that one medication was controlling his BP just fine. I think all that stress and worry were making his already high BP uncontrollable.

So, while I may miss being able to serve him as a housewife, cooking, cleaning, & greeting him at the door when he gets home from work, I'm still serving him. My service has just changed and it's far more valuable to him right now than my housekeeping services.

SM as Relaxtion and Calming Aid

As an effort to keep the M/s active in our relationship and to help maintain my head space, Master promised to give me "collar time" every night, if possible. What this means is he puts the collar on me each evening and I wear it while wearing nothing else in our bedroom. We may have sex, we may do SM, or I may just service him orally. Whatever we do it's been set aside as Master/slave time, even if all we do is cuddle and talk. I am really enjoying this new ritual and I think it's good for both of us. He seems to be exerting more control over me than he was and I'm feeling happier.

I've learned something new!. SM can be used as a calming aid or as a tool for relaxation. Okay, so it's not new, but it's new to me.

Yesterday I was extremely upset over something that had happened at a store. I was livid, embarrassed, ashamed, and disappointed that I'd let our youngest down. Granted, it wasn't something I had control over at the time, I still felt as if I'd let her down and disappointed her. No worries, it was nothing illegal and nothing I'd actually done.
I immediately set to trying to sort the issue out over the phone. When I got home I was still on the phone, by the time I finished that call I was angrier because the answers I got were vague and noncommittal. I made another call and yet again, more vague and noncommittal answers telling me I had to call yet another number. I couldn't make that call because it was after office hours by that time. I did, however, call another store where this problem originated and supposedly they're researching it and will get back to me. I didn't feel as if my problem was going to be resolved and I still don't. I was still upset after making those calls and needed some time to try to calm down. I wasn't able to be friendly and chatty, I wanted to sit and brood about the problem.

He saw that I wasn't calming down as quickly as he'd have liked me to so he ordered me upstairs. Once I got up there I was ordered to present my bare bottom. I thought I was going to be punished for sure despite my trying to maintain a respectful tone with him. Instead he spanked and punched my bottom and thighs, using SM to calm and relax me. It lasted maybe 5 minutes but it was enough to switch gears in my brain. It turned me on too. *grins*

The only other time he has used SM like that was when I needed an attitude adjustment. It was done as punishment then so I've never really thought of it as being an effective tool for relaxation and calming. I'm thankful he thought of it. I did need a quick change of attitude and wasn't able to get to it on my own. That's one of my personal pitfalls, I'm too emotionally charged and my emotions get away from me too quickly. They build on each other, growing until it's all out of proportion. I'm learning to control them and sometimes I'm successful, I just wasn't last night.

It Was a Good Day

Yesterday was spent with the Boss and my Sir. It was a great day, we had fun, we cuddled, we teased each other, and fooled around. The Boss and my Sir are developing a nice rapport, it's fun and rewarding to watch this happening.

I love being with both of them and being able to spend "group" time. My relationships with them may be a v-type triad with me as the joining point but we're still a unit. What one person does affects the entire unit. The unit needs to spend time together to develop rapport, trust, and comfort. They both need to be able to trust that the other is taking care of me and treating me well and that the other isn't harboring jealousy or resentments.

I need to see them together, getting along, and developing some sort of bond or friendship for my own peace of mind. Knowing that they genuinely like each other goes a long way toward helping me relax and not worry about creating jealousies and resentments in either of them. I work at keeping things even and balanced, I try to not neglect either of them. Actually my Sir gets the short end of the stick more often than not now that I'm working full-time. I need to fix that as best I can so our relationship doesn't wither and die from lack of attention.

Poly isn't easy. Sometimes I think this type of poly is more difficult than others. We don't all live together so we don't have the benefit of having a lot of face time to deepen bonds.

I haven't even covered my/our relationship with m'Lady. Granted, our relationship with her isn't sexual or romantic but it's still a close, intimate relationship. She's family and I answer to her as a dominant partner, her opinions matter a great deal to us. We wouldn't consider adding another to the relationship unless they clicked with her too.

We never set out to be this way, it just happened. All we can do is try to keep up and make it work. There is no set model, no guidebooks, no instruction manuals, not really. How many people are in a multiple dominant, single submissive dynamic? Honestly, very few. I do value those who are in D/s poly dynamics, that are outspoken online, no matter what their dynamic looks like. It helps to see how others interact, what pitfalls they come across, and how they manage their relationships.

Sometimes I feel like I'm so far out of what society views as "normal" that I'm jumping without a parachute. I can't tell my family or my kids about the other loves in my life. I can't share that with anyone but our intentional family and my D/s lifestyle friends. It gets pretty lonely sometimes.

No Question

Being the girly girl I am, there are certain things that I think are just gross and I'd really prefer to not have to do, or be exposed to, them. One of them is touching another person's feet. I'm getting better about touching Master's feet at least. I don't mind massaging lotion into them.

I was doing just that when I mentioned to him that he needed to clip his toenails. He got a wild hair and decided to have me do it. I had a few minutes of thinking that he had to be kidding or just yanking my chain but he was utterly serious. So, with a little bit of grousing about how gross it was, I proceeded to get the clippers and set to my task.

It doesn't seem like it was that long ago when I would have balked until he decided it was too much trouble to "dom" me into doing it. Once I realized he wasn't joking, I didn't question that I was going to do it. I took my time and made sure I didn't leave any jagged edges or pointy spots. By the time I'd finished I found myself feeling pleased that I'd done a good job and taken care of my Master.

He told me afterwards that if I hadn't let on how much it bothered me to do it, he wouldn't have pursued the subject. Basically the only reason he had me do it is because I objected, he enjoyed my struggle between revulsion and obedience. But, now what? In my mind it is now on the list of services I perform for him. He seemed to enjoy being cared for in that way. Maybe I misread him and what he was really enjoying was my discomfort. We really haven't talked about it since Friday night.

Nine years ago I would never have dreamed that clipping his toenails would make me feel so good about myself. I remember reading others' retellings of doing this sort of service and saying "No way am I doing that." You know what they say about never saying never right? *wry grins*

It's Time

"This is my brother J. He was taken from us.." Those were Master's words in the first TV interview he gave. He had a picture of his brother on the coffee table in front of him that he gestured to as he spoke.

Pictures and memories are all we have left of him now thanks to the selfish actions of one person. This person felt that his need to remove J from this existence was more important than our need to have him in our lives. I realize he wasn't thinking of the bigger picture or of the pain he'd cause, but it doesn't change the reality of what he's done. That's his bad for not thinking beyond himself, not ours.

And that's as far as my anger is able to reach. I don't want vengeance, an eye for an eye just leaves everyone blind. I guess, if I had to point to what I really do want, to what is realistic to request, it would be answers. We want to know why. Why did he do it? It won't bring Jamey back, it won't comfort us, but it will help ease the confusion. We're all so very, very confused about it.

4/26/07

We all seem to be settling into daily life, trying to pick up the pieces and move on with our lives. I think all of us are tired of living in a holding pattern. We all want to get the trial done and over with. His lawyer has had the trial delayed, it sounds as if he's going to try for an insanity plea.

On a side note, J still doesn't have a headstone. It's become a freaking soap opera with temper tantrums being thrown over donations and how they were spent and an outsider trying to create more drama to make it all about her. I'm ready to cut ties with these people, I'm so fed up with their infantile and manipulative behavior. What happened to the caring people they were when our grief was still fresh? What happened to remembering that it's about J, not about any of us? Selfishness reigns supreme.

The Boss's mother is trying to work through her grief but it's slow going. I don't even want to try to imagine how hard that is for her. I don't know how she's maintained her grip on reality, I don't think I would be able to.

We're planning on attending the Pride parade and events this year, if the Boss has to work I'm still going. I'd like to have buttons made up for us with J's picture on them as a way of keeping him with us, and celebrating his life. J loved to party and Pride is one big party that I'm sure he would have loved.

J had an artistic soul with a purely unique outlook. All one has to do is look through the pictures of how he decorated his apartment to know. His living space was as colorful and vibrant as he was. He is deeply missed.

Angst-y

I'm feeling kind of angsty today about my relationship with my Sir. I don't write much about him here, our situation is complicated. He has some major life changing stuff happening within the next year and it has me wondering where that leaves us? Where will I stand with him afterwards?

Sometimes I don't know where I stand with him now. After having my trust dented by some decisions he made I pulled way back from him, including my submission. I didn't feel like I could trust him and if I can't trust a person I can't submit to that person. That was a couple of years ago, it took me a long time to trust him enough to want to submit to him again. It was a little while longer before I actually did. Since then our relationship has been very different.

I don't think I came back to him fully as a submissive. I've kept part of myself in reserve, afraid to trust him as completely as I did, not wanting to be hurt like that again. This makes it hard to be the s in a D/s relationship. Yet, part of me still wants to submit to him and doesn't want to lose the relationship entirely. I care a great deal for him and I genuinely like him.

I'm wanting to try to find my way back to him as a submissive, I just don't know how to do it. If I do end up losing the relationship with him I at least want to have spent the last bit of it as it started, submissive to him. Perhaps the changes in me and the changes he's facing, are such that it's just not possible? I don't know the answers and I don't think he does either at this point. I think this is something we're going to have to take day to day and wait for it to unfold in its own time.

For now I will try to focus on enjoying the time and relationship I do have with him and maybe I'll open a window in the walls so he can climb back in.

***************************************************
Addendum 4/26/07

I talked with the Boss about this blog post and about the situation with my Sir. I had a mini-epiphany. I can accept a person's flaws and have very few expectations of them if I am not submissive to them. However, if I am submissive to someone I have higher expectations. But the Boss pointed something out to me. He reminded me that I do get my service and SM needs met through him. SO, I should just relax and enjoy what my Sir and I do have without trying to complicate it. Hmm... and why didn't I think of that? *shaking head*

New adventure, learning to relax and go with the flow!

Collars and Connectedness

The collar we use is very obviously a collar and thus cannot be worn at home, much as I'd dearly like to. Perhaps this makes it more special, more symbolic. Whatever the reason, I long to wear a collar all the time. I feel safe, secure, and right wearing it.

He let me wear it longer than usual Saturday night. I got to wear it when we were visiting with the Tribe, while we played, and then right up until we parked in front of our home at the end of the night. It was with some reluctance that I shifted so he could access the lock and remove it.

Last night as soon as he got me into the bedroom for the night he stripped me bare and put the collar on. You could have pushed me over with a feather, happy as I was to be nude but for the collar and serving him. When he removed it my neck felt so naked, empty, bereft. I wanted to beg him to let me wear it to bed even though I knew it would be uncomfortable to sleep in.

I don't need a collar to prove anything to anyone or to myself. Nor do I need it in order to prove I'm a slave. It's just that I feel naked without it, I miss its presence around my neck. The ritual of him placing the collar around my neck and locking it is a reminder of my position, a Master's reclamation of his slave.

I want a daily collar that I can wear but only if it's something he wants me to have and wear. If he were to give me a daily collar simply because I asked for it, to me, it would lose some of its symbolism. It's a symbol of his ownership of me, much like a wedding ring is a symbol of marriage. It signifies my status as owned property and my commitment to my Master.

I know plenty of people who are quite happy without a daily collar and, in general, I'm one of those people. But in these past couple of days it has become more important to me to wear his collar all the time. I'm wondering if this change is related to the connection the Boss and I made Saturday night.

It was a rough night for me, emotionally speaking. I'd gotten my hopes up pretty high that the Boss and I would have our forced sex scene and before we left he told me he didn't think he'd be in the mood for it. He'd rather keep that type of play private between us. I was disappointed when he told me but I worked very hard to keep that out of my voice and to not have a bad attitude about it. I thought I was doing well with that. I didn't pout and my mood was good.

However, when we arrived at our destination I slowly became aggressive and slightly smart-mouthed. It was almost as if I was daring him to hurt me, challenging him to do so. Later on in the evening he and his partner in crime decided to do a takedown scene. The scene itself was fun, it was more playful fighting than anything serious. Yet, I found myself getting angry and ended up pretty upset afterwards. I think I was disappointed that I didn't get to go to the place I wanted/needed to go. I've had a lot of pent up stress and the very sadistic scenes are cathartic and help me find my slave center. I know that sounds a little silly but that's how it works for me.

The Boss spent some quiet time with me talking about my behavior and my emotions. I apologized for behaving badly and aggressively. I felt like an idiot at that point and couldn't believe I'd done it. I almost asked if we could go home because I was embarrassed by my behavior. I kept my teeth closed and didn't ask that question but instead took the comfort he offered and threw myself into having a better evening. The rest of the evening was good and he even played with me again. By the end of the scene I felt that sense of peace and connectedness I'd been craving.

He spent most of the scene making physical contact with me. Some part of his body was always touching me while we played. He didn't take me to the breaking point, and didn't push me too far beyond what I could take. But through it I connected to him in a very deep and meaningful way. It was cathartic even without being pushed far and hard. At the end he pulled me into a big hug and just held me until I knelt in front of him, bent at the waist and wrapped myself around his leg kissing his foot, rested my cheek on his foot and continued to kiss his foot. I stayed there until he patted my bottom to indicate he wanted me to stand. He hugged and kissed me then set me to packing the toys up. I was peaceful, joyous even, and I'd found my slave center.

I think it is that feeling that I hope to capture and retain with the wearing of a daily collar. I want to always feel that centered peacefulness, that joy to serve, no matter what task he may give me. That feeling is associated with being in collar more often than not.

Extreme

He starts lovingly, suckling her nipples, building her arousal higher and higher. His cock, stiff with need, rubs against her inner thigh already dripping precum in anticipation of what is about to happen.

He stops suckling and looks at her, his eyes gone hard, cold, devoid of the tender side of him. The Sadist has come out to play. He slaps her face then grabs a fistful of her hair, right at the nape of her neck. He holds her in place while he slaps her breasts first the right and then the left. She struggles to hold still and accept the slaps for him, her cheek stinging and her breasts beginning to burn. He looks into her eyes and tells her what she's going to take for him, what she's going to do for him, then pulls her around the room by her hair, forcing her to bend following his hand as he lowers it to waist-height. She struggles but follows him, stumbling only once, then he throws her onto the floor and tells her to stay put. She struggles to her knees, not understanding what he is doing. He lands a backhanded slap against the opposite cheek and she looks up at him, defiance burning in her eyes, nostrils flaring. He chuckles, a low, humorless noise, then grabbing her hair he pushes her face down against the floor, places his foot at the back of her neck and holds her there. She struggles, her hands clawing at his leg until he handcuffs her wrists together behind her. She screams, cursing him... He kneels then, straddling her upper back, facing her upturned ass, his cock and balls resting heavily on her back. He begins to slap her ass hard, over and over, raining blow after blow against that soft white flesh. She squirms, trying to get away from him. She lets her knees go out from under her in an attempt to get away from the unrelenting beating. He follows her down and continues to spank her until her flesh is an angry red and is hot to the touch. She lies still beneath him gasping and sobbing, praying he is finished, knowing all the while that he's only just begun...

He climbs off of her and pulls her up to her knees as he stands in front of her. His cock is leaking copious amounts of precum, he growls an order to clean it off.. she licks and sucks at his cock as if she were starved for it. He grips the back of her head and forces himself deep into her throat while pinching her nose tightly closed. She begins to struggle, some small amount of panic setting in. Every other time he's done this she had her hands free so she could tap his leg to let him know she'd reached her limit. Would he let her breathe in time? She tried to calm herself, to relax, trusting in him. She couldn't control her body's struggles for air though... her lungs burned with need. He forced himself just a little further into her throat and then pulled out, letting her gasp for air...
***
I crave this type of play and more. I want him to use me, to allow me to be the vehicle for his pleasure. This is the cat and mouse dance of Sadist and prey, struggle, force, and acquiescence.

The outcome is always the same, I am worshipful, soft, vulnerable, wide open, and needy for his affection. Sometimes I crawl to the floor and kiss his feet, thanking him for his attentions. Sometimes I just lay limply in his arms, thoroughly exhausted and content.

On one of the e-mail lists I participate on the question was asked "What deepens your feelings of submission?" What I wrote above is it. Being used by the Sadist as nothing more than an object does it for me. It rips away all notion of self and selfishness, leaving a pliant servant in its wake.

In the long term I find myself searching for ways to improve my service to him or to improve myself for him. Honorifics are beginning to fall from my lips unbidden, unplanned, naturally. It feels natural to do so. In the past I've always felt self-conscious about using honorifics, it felt silly, unnatural. Not so anymore. I see this as just one sign of my deepening submission to him.

Tomorrow night we have planned a scene where Sadist and prey will play together. Some would call it a takedown scene, others would call it forced/rough sex or play rape. I just think of it as playing with the Sadist, the real Sadist. The one who doesn't care about my pleasure or discomfort. This Sadist gets off on my pain, screams, protests, and tears. He has no regard for my sense of propriety. To him I'm an object to be used and he uses me, brutally. Often while f*cking me he will force several fingers deeply into my bottom with no more lubrication than a coating of his saliva. He is growling behind me, his excitement builds with each scream he wrenches from my throat. I hold nothing back from him, I scream, wail, beg, and plead. "Please Master, please, please, please.." Sometimes I don't know if I'm begging him to stop or if I'm begging him to continue using me in any way he sees fit.

I hope he cuts my clothes off tomorrow night, I hope he cuts me, I hope it hurts. I want to bleed for him, I want him to feed from me, my blood or my milk... or both. *squirm* I'm rather aroused now... I wonder if he'll allow me an orgasm tonight?

Blah!

I feel like this blog is turning into a place to whine and I don't want to do that. I just don't know what do do with all this frustration. Pain is taking over my life, it has infiltrated every part of my life, every waking moment.

I finally bit the bullet and did what the Boss suggested I should do, I called my pain doc to request some sort of change in my pain meds because I'm not getting adequate relief. Just as I'd feared, the doc is refusing to make any changes to my meds and is insisting that I make an appointment to discuss a discogram so I can be evaluated for a fusion. I don't even know when I can get time off to make an appointment much less the time for a discogram. The earliest I could even consider surgery would be December because of my job. I have to work here a year before I'm eligible for any sort of disability payments.

I'm starting to feel disabled. I have to plan every little bit of my life to be sure I've got enough energy to do any activity and I have to be sure the activity won't leave me hurting the next day too. It's frustrating as all get out. This story is the one I mentioned a while back and it really does describe pretty accurately what it's like to live with a chronic condition, only I very rarely have a spoon in reserve.

Maybe my out of control anger is linked to all of this. I can't rage about my losses and I'm helpless to do anything to fix the situation at this point. I'm so stuck on everything I can't do that I'm having trouble being thankful for the things I still can do. I want to be able to serve my owner the way I did before the end of last August. I want to be able to have sex as enthusiastically and in whichever position we choose without having to worry about how it's going to affect my pain levels the next day. I want to be able to engage in heavy SM again, complete with take down/resistance play. I'm really angry and upset about the loss of that. I HATE being disabled and I'm SCARED that it will only get worse and eventually I'll be crippled by it.

I had someone suggest today that I need to mourn what I'm losing/have lost but I don't know how to do that because I'm still looking for loopholes and I still have a tiny bit of hope that I can be "fixed".

Still, I've been flirting with the idea of using a cane for the bad days and trying to get used to the idea that I may need to get one. I've been considering talking to my doctor about putting "permanent" in my file so I can get a handicap parking sign for my car too but I'm afraid he'll refuse that too. He has always seemed so certain that either this would heal or it could be fixed somehow so I bought into that idea too. When do you finally give up and say "This is the best it's ever going to be, it's time to deal with it."?

The Boss is encouraging and supportive and I appreciate that. I'm thankful that he doesn't treat me with kid gloves and lets me serve unless I'm in obvious distress. He's trying to trust that I'll let him know when I'm at my limit. I'm still pushing myself until I've gone just a hair beyond my limit, I can't help doing it I'm kind of stubborn that way. I've had a pretty bad example of someone giving up in a similar situation. My mother has pretty much made herself bedridden because of chronic pain and depression. There is so much she could still do but doesn't, instead she sleeps her life away. I don't want to do that, I want to live my life to the fullest, not waste it like she's done. Maybe the thing that scares me the most isn't being crippled by my condition but instead it's the thought of becoming her that does it.

Bad Dog No Biscuit

I've been behaving badly and I feel like I deserve to be punished. I need to be held accountable for my behavior.

The Boss teases me about it but I do have a bit of road rage, he's listened to me rant about other drivers over the phone on my drive home. I'd never really given it any thought until today but jeez, I'm ashamed of myself. Why would anyone want to listen to me rant about other drivers? The answer is simple, they wouldn't. I need to settle down and just let it go, I can't control other drivers and ranting about them just makes me look and sound like trash. The Boss doesn't own trash and I'm insulting him by acting that way.

I overreacted yesterday on the phone with the Boss. His employer mistreats him and it upsets me to see him mistreated, I want so badly to fix it for him. I get frustrated and I end up venting at him instead of to him. The same thing happens when I get frustrated about having to wait to get any sort of relief for my back. I vent at him over things he has no control over himself. It's as if I expect him to be able to fix it and I get upset when he can't.

I don't think my feelings are necessarily wrong it's just that the way I express them is in appropriate. Venting, or yelling, at one's owner is childish and very unbecoming.

I've written him an apology for my behavior and I hope we'll have a chance to talk about it this evening. I just wish there was some tangible way I could make amends to him. He deserves a lot better from me than what I've given lately.

Memory Lane

On one of the e-mail lists I'm a member of there was a discussion about what brought one to the leather lifestyle. My first answer was short and to the point "The Boss, Easyrider, and the computer. In that order." That's the short answer. The long answer is a lot more involved and giving the short answer got me to thinking about how I got to where I am today.

Before I met the Boss at the tender age of 15 (going on 30) I believed my mother's line that women ought to be strong and women don't need men for anything but sex once in a while. Her definition of strong translates to domineering and dominant.

I tried very hard for many years to be just that, strong, dominating, and domineering. I kept all males at arm's length, they were only allowed to know just so much of the real me. It didn't help that my early introduction to sex with males left me with a huge distrust of all males. When you're young it's easier to paint everyone with the same brush rather than make exceptions and risk being hurt again and again. At least, that was my reasoning and I thought it served me well for several years. I believed I was protecting myself from hurt but it was a lie I told myself. I still got hurt, I just buried it deeply and refused to acknowledge it.

When I met the Boss I tried keeping him at arm's length, I was mean to him and tried to deliberately hurt him when I realized he cared about me and, that I cared about him. He wouldn't be deterred. He wrote me letters constantly, imploring me to give him a chance, telling me how much he cared for me, and wanted me. He likes to say he wore me down and I let him go with that story. The truth is, I couldn't deny how I felt about him any longer. There's the backstory, now on with how the Boss helped bring me to where I am now...

The Boss, for all his practical inexperience, was extremely well-educated about sex and a woman's body. He was sexually adventurous and open-minded, giving me courage to try new things with him. He introduced me to my body, to the pleasures I could experience with it, and he gave me my first ever orgasm. He introduced me to pornography too, which was an educational experience all on its own. That's when I developed the misconception that men's orgasms were painful. Have you ever seen the O-faces they make in older porn movies? They look as if they're experiencing excruciating pain.

Anyway... The Boss had a large collection of porn magazines and Easyrider magazine. I am a voracious reader, always have been, as well as just curious enough to get myself into trouble. It was the stories in Easyrider that opened up another world of possibilities to me, women submissive to men, treated like property, traded among a group of men, and happy to live that way. I got incredibly turned-on reading these stories, they fueled many a late night fantasy, and served in a way as foreplay. Sometimes I'd lie naked, on my belly, on the Boss's bed reading stories while he explored my body and did deliciously naughty things to me.

I had my first bondage and role playing experiences with the Boss, I told you he was open-minded. I didn't trust anyone enough to be tied up myself but was curious about tying someone up and he was a willing partner.

The Boss introduced me to threesomes and moresomes, he found that he loved watching me have sex with others and I found myself obliging him even if I wasn't exactly interested in the person he wanted me to have sex with. I did it because I wanted to make him happy because it made me happy to see him happy. During our first 10 or so years together we fought a lot, we had growing pains (we were still kids for all intents and purposes), and we had huge power struggles. Both of us were trying to be in charge, him because it's just natural to him and me because that's what I was taught to be.

During those years we didn't know about the terms BDSM, D/s, or M/s. We didn't have the language to label ourselves with. Now I'd label what we were as vanilla with sprinkles. We had kinky sex, we had threesomes and moresomes, and he let me have sex with other people without him.

When I was about 26 we saw an episode of HBO's Real Sex that showcased BDSM and I was off to the races. Immediately I got online and started searching for any and all information I could find on the subject. I found newsgroups, web sites, and e-mail lists. I asked the Boss to explore with me, I wrote fantasy stories for him to pique his interest and to show him what I was interested in. He read the stories and he did try but he just wasn't ready yet. Being the man he is, he gave me permission to seek out a partner who would explore with me and give me what I needed.

I put an ad out on an adult ad site and came across someone who sounded promising. I contacted him and he responded. We chatted a lot through e-mail and instant messenger, I put off meeting him for three to four months because I was nervous and insecure. I finally met him and we hit it off. He became my dominant and gave me a safe space within which to explore my submission. During this time I continued to read everything I could find and shared what I read with my Sir. I continued to make occasional overtures to the Boss and shared with him what my Sir and I did.

When I finally screwed up the courage to participate in real time with the local BDSM group I shared everything I learned at the demos I attended with both the Boss and my Sir. I was in a frenzy and having the time of my life, I was finding my genuine self. My Sir taught me a lot and helped me on the road to being a woman and a submissive in addition to being a wife and mother.

I met m'Lady at a group function, she decided she wasn't going to allow me to hide in the corner and dragged me out of it. We bonded quickly and she took a serious interest in helping to bring the genuine 'me' out. She gave me the opportunity to serve as a sort of social secretary, keeping her notified of upcoming events, etc. I loved being able to serve her in that manner. By the time I met m'Lady I'd become discontent with the level of D/s I had with my Sir. I didn't have many opportunities to serve him and I was craving a deeper level of dominance. I wanted to be owned; property. I needed that.

Not long after I met my Sir, perhaps a year and a half to two years, the Boss decided he was ready. He took over as my primary partner and started attending the local group's functions with me. It seems like things between us quickly progressed from D/s to M/s but it took about a year and a half before the Boss collared me as his slave. I've been his slave now for about three-going on four-years and we're still learning together. Sometimes daily life gets in the way and the M/s becomes more of an undercurrent and we then have to work our way back to active M/s.