Control: Choices and Responsibility

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Clear as mud? Probably.

Fear

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

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

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

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

The Root of the Matter

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

HumDrum

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

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

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

Reflection

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Realizations, Epiphanies, and Pottery

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

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

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

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

Irony

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

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

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

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

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

Musing about Humiliation

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

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

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

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

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

Creativity and my Latest Endeavor

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

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

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

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

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

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

Sucky Things

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Especially that one.

Prey

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Beastly Food for Thought

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yawning Chasm

Warning: Depressed ranting and venting with just a little whining thrown in for spice. If this isn't what you're looking for, read no further.

I'm feeling pretty down these days. The pain is out of control and I feel helpless against it. I'm pushing through my days because I have to, because I'm expected to. When I get home there's nothing left, I have nothing left in me, I just want to curl up and not exist. I don't want to talk to anyone, I don't want to be talked to, I just want to be left alone. The pain has become the focus of my life again. It'd be very easy to say "Don't focus on it, focus on something else" but when each step, each breath, each movement is filled with pain I ask "How?"

Master is optimistic, he thinks the pain will get better like it did the last time. I think he's dreaming. I guess his view is better than mine spending the next year, or however long it takes before I can afford to have surgery to fix the problems, in this kind of pain. Yes, I'm having dark thoughts, wondering if a life with this kind of pain is going to be worth living. I was almost pain free before last Thursday! I was almost normal, almost human, almost not controlled by pain. And then suddenly I'm back to square one and not even able to sit on the couch and watch TV without having to shift position a million and one times because it hurts. I'm miserable. My whole body hurts and nothing is helping.

I don't know what the doctor will say tomorrow and I guess it doesn't really matter because I can't do what it will take to fix the problem. So why even go? Why bother? My options are extremely limited, I can have the epidural (which didn't work before) or the surgery (which I can't afford and may never be able to afford). So, I ask, what is the fricking point when I'm going to have to take Option C, continue on as I have been and just survive? The only reason I'll go is to get answers, to find out exactly what I've broken this time.

It's all just starting to feel pointless. No I'm not threatening suicide, the thoughts are there yes, but I'm just not the type to follow through. Being the sadomasochist that I am I'd rather torture myself with thoughts of oblivion, release, relief, but not allow myself to have those things.

I'm just wondering why bother trying for more, for something better, when I'm not going to be able to enjoy it. Master will probably get upset with me for these thoughts, for my being so negative, but I can't help it. I FEEL negative. It's hard to be positive when I hurt from head to toe. The only positive I feel is positive that I hurt today and today is all I can see right now.

I'm running on empty here and I can't get past the pain.

Peevish

I've reinjured my back, I was working out and poof, there it went. So, I'm undergoing another MRI and followup with the pain doc. I'm pretty well at peace with it at this point. I can't undo it, much as I'd like to. I'm working on getting past the feelings of being a burden on Master. He says I insult him by suggesting that he'd be the type of person who would consider anyone in his care, a burden. The man has a point so, I concede and I apologize for the insult. I purposely avoided posting here for the past few days so I didn't fill this space with the pitypoorme crap that I've been doing in private e-mails to certain loved ones and support groups.

Last night Master and I were watching this show on cable on a channel named WE (Women's Entertainment). The show was called Secret Lives of Women: Fetishes. Well I just HAD to watch it when I saw that title. For the most part the show was interesting, however; there was a woman on there who was a slave whose outlook on slavery kind of hit my buttons. She said that as a slave she's no longer responsible for her choices, for the consequences of any decisions made, etc. You get the point I'm sure. This line of thinking always irks me. Consensual slavery is *not* an abdication of responsibility in my book. In fact, I see it as a greater responsibility in that I am answerable to another, not just to myself.

I think I can see where she was going with it in that there is a mental game one can play with oneself when one is having difficulty getting past certain social conditionings such as "good girls don't..." When Master tells you to do it then you're not really doing it of your own volition right? This then means that you're not responsible for it, right? This is great when you're just starting out or when you're pushing limits but, there should come a point where you realize that you really are responsible for each and every decision you've made. If you're driving Master somewhere and he tells you to speed to get there and you get pulled over for speeding "Master told me to do it" isn't going to go over very well with the police officer and it certainly won't get you out of the ticket. It would be about as effective as "the devil made me do it."

One of my biggest pet peeves is people not taking personal responsibility for their actions. Slave or not, I am still responsible for my choices, regardless of whether or not I'm following orders. It's not as if choosing to be his slave was the last choice I ever made. Consensual slavery is a path of constant choices, with each day, with each order, I make the choice to obey, to complete a task. No matter how nice a fantasy it might be, Master will not be the only person dealing with the consequences of choices made. Every consequence and outcome will affect both of us whether I was following Master's orders or not.

I've tried very hard to instill the value of personal responsibility in each of our children, I think I came to it too late with our son and our oldest daughter. Too many of their early years were spent with me still living under the shroud of victim. All these horrible things had happened and were happening to me, I was helpless to stop them. They were half-grown by the time I realized I could effect change in my life, before I became personally empowered. Too little too late? I don't know. All I can do now is live, and teach, by example.

Goings On

It's been busy around here lately. School started today for the youngest girl and school starts next week for me and the oldest girl. Our computer decided to have a nervous breakdown (we think the motherboard is fried) and we're using the old computer that had been given to the kids to use.

I feel sort of lonely today, I'm not accustomed to being alone, I got so used to having HRS here and doing things with her. Now I'm back to seeing her for maybe an hour a day, if that, during the week. Ahh well, enough of the pity party.

School starts next week for me and I'm nervous about it. I'm taking accounting 101 and math is SO not my subject. I want to do well but I worry that I won't. Maybe I'd feel better about it if I knew I'd have time to actually study.

Pain = Arousal?

It's kind of ironic, one of the things I hate the most (being helpless, blindfolded, and "tortured") is one of the things that creates the biggest arousal response in me. I get a flood of moisture between my legs every time. The thing is, I don't feel mentally or physically aroused. I don't usually eroticize the pain, it's just pain, something to be felt, to be endured for him.

Yet, yesterday, after he'd had me bound, blindfolded, and "tortured" me, when he felt between my legs I was sopping wet. This is an arousal response in me that doesn't happen to that extent very often. Most of the time I'm very controlled in everything, even my arousal. *shrugs*

In the past I've rationalized that my masochism grew out of the self-mutilation that I practiced once upon a time. I thought it seemed like a reasonable explanation at the time. However, after yesterday's experience (remind me why I was eager to buy the Wartenburg Wheel??) I'm reconsidering. I mean there I was totally cold going into this, not aroused in the slightest, he did things to me that leave me begging for mercy and wishing I had the "right" to say stop when I'd had enough, and my body decides this is arousing. It's not the first time it's happened, it's just the first time I've really sat and thought about it. The other times there were things happening that were arousing to me so I guess I didn't give it much thought.

I guess what I'm getting around to saying is that I must be wired for pain, to like it even when I hate it and believe me, I really do hate being on the receiving end of the Wartenburg Wheel. No matter how determined I am to take it stoically, as soon as he starts in I'm reduced to a whimpering thing, begging him to stop and trying in vain to escape. And here comes the irony, I'd have been disappointed if he didn't do things like that to me. I sit here and shake my head at myself, I'm one big contradiction walking.

The Beast

Disclaimer: This is not an attack against anyone's point of view or preferences, nor is this a recommendation to try this type of "play". This is just my point of view borne from my own experiences and introspection.

I'd wanted to write a sort of essay about this subject though there aren't that many resources to pull from. Just my personal experience and rememberance of an article I read a year or so ago that I can no longer find.

When I talk about The Beast, which is a term I first saw coined by a dominant (whose article I can no longer find online) who was writing about the deepest darkest part of his sadism, I am talking about that part of Master that he keeps locked tightly in a cage lest it get out and wreak havoc on our lives. I have jokingly called it his inner serial killer but it's no joke, it is that part of him that can maim and kill without a second thought. And, for some reason, it's the part of him I like to rub up against from time to time.

I have something in me that is like the other side of that coin but that I have no word for. Not victim, a victim doesn't give consent. Perhaps prey is the closest I can come to describing the part in me that answers the call of his Beast. Though I realize that prey doesn't exactly give consent either, it's the best word I've got for now.

The other day swan mentioned that the Beast is something she and her Master don't like to see very often, which got me to thinking about my own situation and perceptions. I'll say that I'm not ready to entertain the Beast very often, nor is Master willing to let me too near the cage either. He doesn't like the emptiness he feels and fears for my safety I think. I also have a healthy enough sense of self-preservation that I don't like to tempt fate too often. Perhaps this sense of self-preservation is a type of fear? However, as I've already said, there is something in me that needs that sort of interaction every once in a great while. It's draining for both of us, physically and emotionally. For Master he has to let go, sort of divorce himself from his emotions; go empty. For me, I have to hang on and remember things said during that time aren't meant, they're all part of the moment, the experience. I won't lie, feelings have gotten hurt in the past. We've dealt with those hurt feelings and moved on.

But, I don't fear The Beast because I trust Master implicitly. I trust that he has enough self-control that he won't go too far, I trust in his love for me and that he can't completely divorce himself from those emotions. Some might say I trust too much, that too much is left to chance, but if it weren't I wonder if the encounter would be enough to satisfy my inner prey.

When we do this dance, the dance of Beast and prey, it isn't about pleasure, definitely not my pleasure. It's a need in me that has to be fulfilled, a need to be totally debased, used, degraded even, and yes, physically hurt. In that moment I don't want him to be careful of me, attending to my wants, my pleasures, I want him to sate his inner sadist's lust, to slake his thirst with my body, which is what he does.

I don't expect anyone to understand this. It's definitely not a death wish, nor a sense of “I deserve this”. It's just another facet of who I am, perhaps it's a part of my masochism. I honestly don't know.

What I do know is that to thrive I need those occasional encounters. I need to be so caught up in the moment that there is no room for other thoughts, I need to be used so thoroughly that I ache for days afterwards, I need to be able to fight back without fear of reprisals. In the Beast I find all that, and afterwards, when the Beast is sated and I can see that the Master I know and love is definitely alive and well behind those so brown eyes, I'm wrapped in arms of love and comfort. We comfort each other then, help each other come back to ourselves, tend each other's wounds, and clean each other up. Then we spend the rest of the day/evening cuddling and just being together. This is the balance.

It's not for everyone, it's certainly not safe, and it's not something I recommend without a lot of safety nets and self-control. But it is part of my relationship with Master it's a part of who we are as individuals and as a couple. We've found acceptance of those parts of ourselves in each other.

Without a doubt, this is edge play in the extreme and I don't recommend it to anyone. There is a higher risk of things going wrong than with things going right. However, for Master and I, the benefits right now outweigh the risks.

All is Right With the World

I treated myself to a three-day-weekend this past weekend. I decided near the middle of the week last week that I just needed some time off and three days in a row sounded just about right. I'm sure I'll crash a bit tomorrow, sort of a post-vacation let down, when I go back to work but it was worth it.

It all started Friday with a short e-mail to Master. "I want to bleed, I want to bleed you, I want to share blood." We haven't done it in such a long time and right at the moment I wrote that e-mail I was craving it. I know, it's squicky to a lot of people but to me it's the deepest, most intense experience I can share with him. The first time we did it I felt as if we'd formed a deeper bond together, it almost felt, mystical, spiritual.

When he came home from work I told him he had some e-mails he should probably read. Sneaky me? Yeah. He read my e-mail and then went upstairs to shower. One minute I was lying on my belly in the center of the bed reading, the next minute I was being pulled up by my hair with him growling "So... you want to bleed do you?" Talk about instant arousal. I don't know how he did it, he went from happy-to-see-his-wife-after-work mode to sadist in no time at all. I'd love to share all the details but honestly, they're a bit fuzzy. I remember at one point I was kneeling and sucking his cock, deep, deep in my throat having my air cut off... then I was left bending over the bed while he set things up that he wanted. Music, knife.. that sort of stuff. He cut me then, across my back and my bottom. Deep cuts that with a few slaps, bled well. I felt him wipe the blood off my back with his finger and though I didn't see him, I know he licked them clean of my blood. There was some very nice spanking in between all that as well.

He had me kneel then as he sat on the bed and cut his shoulder for me, two little lines, deep enough that in moments blood was welling up to the surface. I just knelt there, my mouth hanging open, my eyes hooded, and my thoughts fuzzy. I knelt up and kept inching closer, amazed, watching the intent expression on his face as he bled himself for me. I fed then, at his shoulder.. lapping up the salty, metallic, fluid. Sucking at his flesh, moaning low in my throat, and reaching down to stroke him. When I'd had my fill he laid towels on the bed and had me lie down... sex toys were used and orgasms were had. I later told him that was the best part of my whole weekend and it was. It was some much needed SM, bonding, and forbidden afternoon sex, that we've both been missing sorely and it's also something we only get to do once in a great while right now.

The rest of the weekend was busy, we did grocery shopping, cooked dinner together, checked out the new Wal-Mart on our side of town, got a jump on buying HRS's school supplies, swam, and went to the library. Master did something very special for me today. He went swimming with us. He usually doesn't like to swim, he's uncomfortable in crowds, and is somewhat body conscious. It was so nice having him there and we all had such a good time together. I've become more focused on exercise lately and I want to do it, but I don't want to do it at the expense of my time with Master. So, I'm thrilled that he joined us today. He even enjoyed himself and admitted that it had felt good to get some exercise. Of course, he did forget to put on sunscreen and is now just a teeny bit pink. Good thing we didn't stay out there too long 'else he'd be a hurting unit. I think mostly I'm just happy we got to have today together.

Since ZBoy has moved out I've become keenly aware of how precious my time with the kids is and how short a time we have left in this stage of our relationships. I want to soak it all up, make as many good memories as possible, and just be happy together.

To finish the day Master gave me a spanking and great sex before bed, well, before he went to bed that is. Which is where I should be.

Love Fest

I'm still blown away by Master's ability to share me with M. I'm just absolutely amazed by him. He loves me so much and is genuinely happy when I get to spend time with M. Yesterday I was humbled by it. I'd gotten to spend a couple of hours alone with M, the first I'd had with him in nearly a year.

I sent Master a detailed e-mail about the day before I left for work and when I got home he told me how happy for me he was that I'd had such a good day. I could hear the happiness in his voice, see it in his eyes, and I could feel the love radiating from him. He was truly pleased for me. I'm awed by this man, truly. How could he ever wonder why I love him? Sometimes I don't feel worthy of him, like I don't deserve him.

He's a special man and I'm thankful he sees something in me that's worthy of loving and keeping.

Run By Updating

I guess I disappeared there for a bit again eh? Well, what can I say? I'm rarely here long enough to write much of anything. If I'm not at school or at work, I'm at the pool with HRS. If she had her way we'd be at the pool all day long, every day.

I'm growing more and more dissatisfied with my job and find myself chomping at the bit for something new, something where I'm not the verbal punching bag for ignorant strangers who don't have the capacity to read and understand a simple order form and choose to take it out on me and blame the company for their ignorance. My tolerance level for these people is at about a -6 and one of these days I'm going to say what I'm really thinking. Hopefully I'll have another job lined up before then. *chuckles*

The summer term is winding down and I'm anxious for the fall term to begin so I can get to the finish line. I'm tired of being a student for now. I need a rest.

I'm doing OK on the diet front, though I gained a half a pound in the past week and I'm wondering if it was the two trips out to eat that we made this week that did it. Either way, I'm not beaten. My clothes are all loose fitting and I'm driven to get into smaller sizes. I actually got into a 22 last night, it was just a wee bit snug and didn't look good at all. Could have been the style, whatever, I'll keep looking elsewhere. I didn't feel the usual upset over the clothes not fitting just right that I've felt in the past. That, in itself, is a major victory. I know that until I get to whatever my ending weight will be, I'm going to be between sizes more often than not and that's OK.

We're going to visit with the Tribe for the day today and I'm really excited. We haven't gotten to spend much time with them in quite a while. Life has just been WAY too busy. I'm hoping Master and I might get to sneak a little S&M in while we're there too. I'd be satisfied with just lying over his lap and receiving a leisurely spanking, I'm not greedy. I just need that physical connection with him, the give and take, and the energy we build together.

Really Doing It

You know, I've talked a big talk in the past about getting healthier. I've even made half-hearted attempts. And yes, over the past 8 years or so I had lost about 25 pounds. BUT, in the past month or so I've lost about 11 pounds. I just lost three of those pounds over the last week. I'm proud of myself for staying motivated and sticking to it. I can see visible results now, not only the numbers on the scale but in my jawline and my chin. Things are becoming less rounded and more defined and it's exciting. It's almost like watching a painting or a sculpture take form, I can't wait to see what the finished product will look like.

Master says he's noticing the changes too and it feels so good to hear that, to know that I'm not imagining things with too much wishful thinking.

The key to these results? Exercise. Who'd've thought it eh? I've been getting out and swimming for a half hour as often as I can. The only downside to losing weight? My clothes are getting loose and I think I'm between sizes so buying new clothes just isn't an option yet.

After years of wanting to be thinner, healthier, etc., I've finally found the right mindset for it. I finally want to do it and I want to do it for me. I want to FEEL better, I want to have more energy, I want to have less pain, and I want to be able to serve Master better.

I'm really proud of myself for actually doing it this time, for sticking to it, and for continuing to make the effort.

The Unwelcome Visitor

Well, I finally have my answer. The procedure in March didn't work like I'd thought/hoped. The evil monthly fairy is back. I'm pretty upset about it right now. I feel like my only option is to just live with it again like I've done for most of my adult life. We can't afford another procedure and I'm so leery of messing with my hormones by using BC to manage my periods and keep the polyps at bay.

I guess today was the perfect day for this to happen, it's storming outside, it matches how I feel inside.

WHY did I let myself get my hopes up? I knew better, I really did. I'd read enough failure stories on the ablation discussion board to know that my chances of being bloodless were slim. Yet, as April saw only spotting and May came and went with nothing and then June seemed like the same scenario, I got confident that I was going to be bloodless.

Well, this sucks and I'm not happy.

Good Times

It all started earlier this week. I went for my first walk Tuesday. I took HRS for a drag (that's going for a walk under protest) with me and we had fun. It was a short walk as these things go but it was enough to make me breathe a little harder and break a little sweat. I felt energized after the walk and, horny!

Yesterday I had a day off from work for a follow-up with the GYN regarding the surgery in March. So far so good, we're doing a progestin challenge next week to see just how effective the surgery was. Excepting April I've been bloodless and that wasn't even what I'd call a period. Yeah, I know, gory details, sorry. I'm not terribly excited about taking the hormones, half afraid that I'll start bleeding, and half afraid the hormones will make me insane.

Last night Master and I were getting friendly on the couch, getting each other quite aroused with covert teasing. Then I had to go pick up LMR and things went a little south after that. When I got home Master was waiting in the bedroom for me and we tried to rekindle the feelings we had earlier but were finding it very difficult. LMR was shouting at HRS in the hallway and we were both a little stressed over the way my car's breaks are behaving. So, we decided to give up and call it a night, we crawled into bed and settled in for the night. I picked up my book and started reading trying really hard not to let myself get angry over my frustration. I was so eager for some good sex with him and then the mood just kind of evaporated in the wind, yet I was still very aroused.

Well, it didn't take long for my hands to start wandering over him. It started out innocently enough, I stroked his arm, rubbed his belly, and well, then my hand traveled a bit lower and he made some happy sounds which encouraged me to do a little teasing. Light touches just near his groin but not quite touching anything. Then he started teasing me and by the time he started biting my neck and shoulder I was done for. We fooled around for a bit just getting each other worked up and then I turned out the light. I don't know why but I feel less inhibited when I'm that aroused and the lights are out. It's weird because I'm not a strictly "Turn out the lights before I'll get nekkid" kind of gal. But, in the dark, it feels more erotic, more something that I can't quite put words to. He did oblige me with some light breath play which thrilled me no end and only served to wind my crank that much tighter. He's my favorite lover, it's like we're built for each other, made to fit together just right.

Today was a good day too. I played hookie from class this morning, I was exhausted and needed more sleep. Yeah I know, bad girl. So spank me. I had to visit another one of my doctors for something else which turned out to be A-OK and I got home early enough to take HRS for a swim. We were only there for about a half an hour but it was great. It felt SO good to swim and even just walk around in the pool. The water supports some of my weight and takes some of the stress off my back which gives me some totally pain free time. HRS and I love to swim together and today was our first swim of the summer. I plan to take her for a swim tomorrow too and I hope m'Lady might join us but if she doesn't that's fine, we'll still swim and we'll still have fun.

And now, I'm off to work for the evening and I really don't mind. The swim really helped relax me. Why do I always forget how good I feel after getting some exercise and put off doing it again for such a long time?

It's The Simple Things

I feel at peace this morning, calm, happy, and relaxed. I know I have homework to do yet today but it feels as if there is plenty of time for it. I don't feel rushed, harried, or frenzied. I'm alone in the house and it feels good. I took time to do the sinks full of dishes, I feel accomplished. One less task for Master to do.

Master and the offspring are off to his company picnic, I could have gone, he wished me to, but he also knew I'd be uncomfortable (physically) and out of place. Hard benches and lots of standing do not make for a fun-to-play-with-later-slave. I have nothing in common with the people he works with and he's assured me that if ever the women at the gathering saw me they'd glom onto me wanting all the juicy little details I could give them about him. Not a fun position for me, who abhors the usual male-bashing gossip-swapping that a lot of women participate in. This is why I don't socialize with many women. I tried in the past to socialize with the wives of Master's co-workers and it was horrible and was definitely enough to put me off of their type forever. Maybe I'm just socially inept because if I have nothing to contribute to a certain discussion I don't say anything at all. I'm not good at making small talk so I don't try.

I'm not too proud to say that I'm uncomfortable with meeting strangers looking as I do. Yes, yes, still insecure. I'm working at changing things but not very hard just now. I don't want them to see me as his "fat wife" and yes, that's probably just something in my head, it still bothers me.

So now to school work and a presentation/report on carpal tunnel syndrome. I hope I can stay awake while writing it. *laughing*

Not Much to Say

I'll bet everyone thought I'd dropped off the face of the Earth eh? Well the truth of it is, I'm being swallowed up by the homework monster. It seems like any free time I have is being spent doing homework, reading textbooks, working, or sleeping. Tuesdays and Thursdays are long days indeed.

Last week Master and I took a personal day from our respective jobs and just spent some much needed quality time together. We're definitely making more effort to do that lately and I think it has helped each of us feel less like we're alone in this. I live for the weekends and I think he does too.

I think it's going to be a while yet before we're able to resume the level of M/s that we both want. I've got to finish school first. I've finally come to a place of acceptance about it, today anyway. I'd be lying if I said I didn't miss it but I'm so close to being finished now, I can cope. We both still know who is in charge, I still defer to him, and we still have our little rituals, these things sustain us through this time.

As far as school goes I'm doing pretty well at keeping up with it and I'm not doing too badly this term thus far. I'm not struggling with the subjects, some things that didn't quite jive last term are beginning to make a lot of sense now. It helps when you have an instructor that knows her subject well.

Unfortunately, I think I'm hitting my limit with customer service work. I've about had my fill of being the verbal punching bag for multitudes of strangers who just want to yell at someone and figure that I'll do. I realize it's not personal, or it shouldn't be, but after they start making personal attacks, it becomes personal and it really gets under my skin. After a time it's just stress. I dread going to work, I hate it the whole time I'm there, and I watch the clock for quitting time. I'm not cut out for this kind of work, too sensitive I guess.

Next time you're unhappy with something, stop and think before you let loose on the customer service representative. That person doesn't make policy, that person doesn't make decisions about the way business is done and they do have set parameters they're allowed to work within, all that person does is help you with your account and answers your questions. That's it. So, next time you feel justified in reaming the CSR, keep that in mind and bite your tongue. We're people too and we don't deserve to be cursed at, verbally attacked, threatened, or to have our personal integrity called into question. We're just doing our jobs so we can make a living just like everyone else.

Busyness

Summer term started this week and wow, busy, busy, busy is the word of the day, of the week, of the next two months. I thought I'd have it easy with the online class. I thought wrong. Loads of reading, mandatory discussion board participation, reports to write, and PowerPoint presentations to create. I'll be SO happy when this term is over. I barely have time to check my regular e-mail right now, forget e-mail lists, blogging is going to be down to once a week, if that. I do need to start scheduling time for exercise, I think it'll help with the energy issue that I seem to be running into; I don't have much of it.

As busy as I was I discovered something this week. I dislike pubic hair on myself, I almost feel ugly when I haven't done my usual shaving. I made time to groom myself on Friday and since then I've felt sexier. I find it kind of ironic because just a few years ago I hated shaving my pubic hair, I itched, it was uncomfortable, felt so self-conscious about it, I thought it looked awful. Master's insistence on my being bare has given me one less thing to hide behind. It seems like every time I turn around something that I once hid behind has been taken from me and it's not the negative thing I might have once felt it to be.

So there's my bit of introspection.. it isn't earth shattering or anything like that but it is important nonetheless. I'll never be a finished product, I don't think any of us will be, but I'm looking forward to see what I am the next time I stop and look back at what I was.

Sunshiney Day

Well, okay it's not really sunshiney out, more like partly cloudy really but I'm feeling a lot more positive today. Master read my thoughts, read the e-mails I sent him where I poured my guts out, and we're making strides to reclaim our intimacy. It's been a good week so far, despite the lovely head cold I seem to have come down with.

However, this weekend will be tough, he's working the entire weekend, including Monday, and I'm going to visit the Tribe for the weekend. It'll feel strange being there without him but I really do need to get out for a bit, get away from home and get out of my usual stuck-in-a-rut routine. It's hard though, I want to be here for him, to greet him when he gets home from work, to just be with him even if all we're doing is sleeping in bed together.

My classes start up again Tuesday and I'm both excited about and dreading them. I'm as prepared as I'm going to be, the books are ordered and should be here by Wednesday at the latest. It's going to be a grueling schedule on Tuesdays and Thursdays, I will leave here by 8 a.m. and won't get home again until 8:30 p.m. I don't know how I'll cope yet, I'm going to have to figure out a way to bring lunches with me because eating in the cafeteria twice a week just doesn't seem practical. I have a lot of concerns about this term but I'm trying to take everything one day, and sometimes one moment, at a time. It'll all be worth it in the end, it has to be. It's do or die right now, either I do it and make it through these next two terms or I quit school and content myself with working customer service the rest of my life. Since I really, really, hate customer service work, quitting school isn't an option for me.

My surgeon's office isn't far from the auditorium where the college holds their commencement ceremonies. On Tuesday, while visiting the surgeon, I was in a room that had a view of that auditorium. While I waited for the surgeon to come in I stared out the window at the auditorium thinking, "Next year, we'll be there, I'll be graduating". That's what's motivating me now. Graduation, it's the prize that I'm bound and determined to win. I can't wait to walk that stage with my friends and loved ones watching and cheering me on.

Knocking on Depression's Door

It's been a difficult year and an even more difficult few months.

I found out yesterday that the lump under the incision site, or alien as I've come to call it, is normal. The doctor assures me that it will soften in time and will stop hurting. At this point all I have is his word and I have to trust that he knows what he's talking about. He didn't seem surprised by the alien nor by the pain so that's a point in favor of trusting him.

Until it does soften and finish healing I'm stuck wearing stretchy exercise type pants that don't squeeze my belly. I can't wait til I can wear "real" pants again.

I've been struggling a LOT with my slavery, with myself, with my life. I'm worn out, rubbed raw, vulnerable. I don't feel like a woman right now and I'm fighting to get that back but it's hard to do on my own. I need people to treat me like a woman, I need to feel wanted, desirable.

It feels like Master and I have lost a lot of the intimacy we once had. My working evenings has really created distance between us. Sex during the week consists mainly of me giving him an orgasm when he's not too tired to ask for it and when I don't demure because I'm feeling pissy because he doesn't want to f*ck me. Sex on the weekends is hit or miss, sometimes it's good, sometimes it's not, and sometimes it starts out good but fizzles out for one reason or another. It's no one's fault. It's what happens when two people who need to interact the way we do are forced to interact as independent entities due to circumstances. That's my theory anyway.

Instead of getting closer, leaning on each other, it feels like we've withdrawn into ourselves. Or maybe it's just me. I know I've pulled back, I haven't been telling Master everything that's been bothering me. Instead I've been trying to just cope, to gut it out. I'm almost done with school, I can do this and I'm the one that created this situation anyway so I shouldn't whine about it.

This isn't a complaint about the way he wants to have sex, it's his right and one that I've acknowledged and consented to as his slave. I'm just struggling with it, as I'm struggling with everything else.

It's just a jumble of thoughts and feelings that need to get out in print instead of meandering around in my head. I'm trying to make peace with it all, trying to reclaim what I had, what I still want.

I Owe, I owe, it's back to work I go!

Today marks two weeks exactly from surgery and I'm feeling better. Well enough to go to work. Well, I'm going back to work whether I feel up to it or not but today I feel peppier than I have been feeling. I was feeling so peppy I did a load of dishes, a couple of loads of laundry and scrubbed the shower walls. I'm definitely feeling more like my old self. Now if that lump would just go away I'd be happy. If it's still there next week I'll have something to talk to the surgeon about. Hopefully it's something that will go away and sooner rather than later.

Beginning next week Master and I are going to do a sugar/sweets detox. I'm looking forward to it and dreading it at the same time. I'm such a sugar addict that it's going to be hard to give it up. Thankfully we'll still have dessert every now and then, it'll just be low cal/low fat stuff. We've been out of control for the past few months with the sweets. With all the crap that's been going on neither of us has really put much effort into watching what we eat. It's so easy to just not care and let loose when life gets stressful. I'm going to talk to my sister about joining her on her walks a couple of times a week too. I need to get into better shape but I'm not ready to go nuts with the exercise right now. I'm still easily tired and I still get belly aches if I do too much.

I had a really nice Mother's Day, Master and the kids really did their best to make it so. He and HRS cooked breakfast for the family and he bought my very favorite Tropicana orange juice to have with breakfast. When we went shopping to get gifts for our mothers he and HRS tried to be sneaky and bought me a lovely little lemon bar scented candle that smells absolutely delicious. Then we went out to dinner, just Master, HRS, and me. It was fun, we usually do have a lot of fun together.

I'm going to miss spending time with my family. I miss being here to help Master with the cooking and getting the kids to and from wherever they need to go. I'm so glad I'm nearly finished with school. Not much longer now right?

Sometimes it just plain sucks

Sometimes being a slave isn't much fun. Especially when there's something you want to do and Master puts his foot down. It's for my own good, I know that but it's still disappointing.

There's an Asian festival tomorrow (Saturday) that I really, really, really, wanted to go to. It celebrates Asian cultures, Japanese among them, and there were displays and shows that I was really excited about seeing. But, Master is right, it'd probably be too much for me and since I'm going back to work Monday I need to take it easy so I'm able.

However; knowing that doesn't make it any easier to accept, especially when you've been either sick, sore, or recovering from something for the past month and a half and you've been cooped up at home nearly the entire time. I've got cabin fever and no way out. Sometimes I feel like I'm imprisoned here by my own body, my own health (or lack thereof) and it's driving me absolutely bonkers. It doesn't matter that my prison is comfortable and has all the amenities, a prison is still a prison.

He's not being a bad guy and he's not being mean or even arbitrary, he's following rule #1. Take care of the property. He's got a lot more sense than I have. I'd attempt to go, if it were up to me, and suffer the consequences later. And of course later I'd be cursing my stupidity.

So, I sit here and try to find things to entertain myself. Maybe he'll allow a short trip to the craft store so I can pick up a few items to work on my latest craft obsession, decorative hair sticks. That would be lovely, I haven't had the time to do craftwork for quite a while and it really fills me with a sense of peace when I'm creating something. Plus, I'd have some pretty things to put my hair up with and that's always a bonus.

Good Days

Today is one of my better days. I'm feeling a bit peppier and a bit less sore than I was yesterday. I still get worn out fairly easily, that will take time to improve I'm sure, but I'm feeling more, hrm.. energetic? I cleaned the tub today and shaved my legs before having a nice shower. I think having my legs shaved is helping my attitude believe it or not. And maybe in another week I can go back to my usual "shave everything below the neck" routine and will feel even better.

Last night Master decided to give us both a bit of pleasure and gave me my first orgasm in about a month. It took a bit of work to not think about the belly lump and I had to force myself to not even look down for fear of glancing at it and the negative feelings starting. It's really affecting my self-image quite a bit. It feels to me like a huge blinking sign on an area of my body that I already dislike.

It was nice to reconnect with Master last night. I've missed it quite a bit. I don't know why but when sex is suspended due to illness, or surgery, I tend to feel like I've lost my sexuality and once sex is resumed it's like a symbol that all is well and "normal".

I'm feeling ready to get out and DO something. But, I was being a bit overly ambitious yesterday when I suggested we go to a festival being held tomorrow. Master pointed out that it would involve a whole lot of walking and standing, both things that still take it out of me. So, no festival. But, maybe there's still something we can find to do. I just need to get back to living in short order.

Healing

I haven't had a lot to say lately. Mostly I've been sitting around quietly moldering while reading books I have checked out from the library. I'm healing, it seems to be going fairly well. I'm fine if I don't do too much. Too much includes 20 minute trips to the store right now.

I'm sore and not inclined to go for long hikes. I'm alternately sleeping a lot and not sleeping well. So goes the healing process.

I finished spring term with Bs, I'm really pleased about that. Of course my perfectionist side is saying I could have done better, but I'll take a B over a C any day.

There's not much to say about the M/s side of things right now, Master is still stressed about work and I'm not exactly in working order. I've been serving him some, as much as I'm able and sometimes a little more just because.

I'm dying for a little sexual connection, it feels like we're living in a suspended reality where everything is the same but not quite. Sudden illness and surgery will do that to a relationship. Up until yesterday morning I hadn't had any real sexual desire. Then it all began with a very strange dream. In the dream Master was cruel, treated me like a boy complete with sex in the way males have sex with each other, he used me without regard to my desires. It was the hottest "wet dream", minus the orgasm, I've had in quite a while. I don't know why but being used for his pleasure, even cruelly, pushes my buttons. When I woke up from the dream it was almost as if it had really happened, it felt as if he'd really been inside me and I was wet with arousal.

But, here back in suspended reality world, I convalesce and do my best to help him relax away from the stresses of work, share his indignation at the b.s. going on there, and try to be as useful as I can since I'm off work til next week.

Time On My Hands

Since the surgery I've had nothing but time. Time to sleep, time to think, time to read, time to go nuts with inactivity.

It's interesting that whenever I have nothing else to focus on my attention reverts to my slavery and ways to improve my service and how deeply I feel my position.

Yesterday I spent time at the Butchmann's Academy web site reading about their weekend intensives. Some of the universal protocol for all s-types, while attending Butchmann's, is very appealing to me. So appealing that I've asked Master and the rest of our Tribe about hosting a play party that would include more formal protocol between s-types and d-types. Do I think Master and I could live a more formal style of M/s? Not really, we're very informal people but to quote Master, "It's nice to visit that place every now and then" and I'm really craving a visit.

I've been giving some thought to giving a little bit of control back to M, going back to more of a power exchange relationship with him than the equal relationship we've had for a while now. I don't know if I will or if I can. Can I trust him this time? Will he dent my trust again or will he keep the open communication with me that we've had for the past month or so? Maybe we'll start slow, with baby steps.

I'm willing to go back to the way we used to do things, the ritual we'd do before we played, wearing his collar while with him. I might even be willing to wear his bracelet again, provided Master is OK with it. I feel a very strong need to submit and to serve right now. Maybe it's due, in part, to feeling out of control regarding my health. When this feeling comes over me it tends to encompass all the people in my life. I want to serve them all to the best of my ability. Actually, it makes me want to do nothing but serve them. Sometimes daily life puts a cramp in my lifestyle.

But, I'm trying to be a little more conscious of my behavior and not letting my disappointment at not being able to do this, or go to that party, affect my behavior or moods. I know I had a little bit of a pout earlier when Master told me we wouldn't be able to attend a play party at the end of this month and I'm sorry I did it. I'm trying to jolly myself up, maybe when I'm feeling better we can send the kids to a movie and have some play time here at home. If not, there's still the formal protocol party to plan and look forward to as long as the rest of the Tribe are amenable to the idea.

Home Again, Home Again, Jiggety Jig

Well, it's been interesting around here. Yesterday morning I woke up with terrible lower abdominal pain and a low grade fever. After about an hour and a half of waiting to see if I was going to feel better, I called Master who ordered me to get LMR out of bed and have her drive me to the urgent care clinic ASAP.

I was thinking it was something to do with the ablation, he was thinking appendix. So, we got to the clinic, waited a half hour to get in to be seen (not bad really for walk-in), then spent an hour in the room waiting for the doc to decide what was wrong. After she found that my white count was high she sent me to the ER to see a surgeon and possibly have a CT scan to get a look at my insides. We got to the ER at about 11 a.m. and saw the surgical resident who seemed sure that it was my appendix. We, LMR and I, sat there for a good long while waiting for the attending surgeon to arrive and examine me. Despite being unable to pinpoint an exact location for my belly pain the attending surgeon decided it was definitely my appendix and said they'd work me in for an emergency appendectomy.

Master arrived at around 1 something in the afternoon, he and LMR ran home so she could be here to do her thing and so he could get cleaned up and come back to be with me.

Finally, around 6 p.m. they got me in for surgery. Master says the surgeon told him my appendix was "hot" and further explained that it was inflamed and definitely *had* to come out. Luckily it hadn't burst and I'm glad I did go to the doctor as quickly as I did.

When they wheeled me out of recovery Master and m'Lady were there waiting for me and sat with me once the nurses got me settled. It was nice to have them there with me, comforting.

I spent a very miserable night in the hospital. It was a laparoscopic procedure but still hurts like mad. But, I was a game and managed to sit up on the side of my bed for a few minutes and even stand, then a few hours later, got up and went for a mini-walk. Today I'm feeling better, though still sore and moving very slow. I'm at home now and very happy to be so. Never, ever go to a hospital if you want to sleep. *wry grins*

It was a scary experience and the seriousness of it didn't really hit me until after I called HRS to talk with her before they took me to surgery. I wanted to talk to her so that I could tell her I loved her, just in case. I'd already spoken to LMR and ZBoy and told them I loved them. I didn't want something to go wrong and have my last conversation with HRS to have been my shooing her out the door for school.

I've never really had "emergency" surgery. I don't like being sick like that, for the record I don't want to have another surgery for a long, long, long, loooooong time. Experiences like this that really put life into perspective. I'm very thankful to be alive and on the mend and thankful I have such a wonderful Master who is taking such good care of me. He's been very good to me, making sure I don't over do things and insisting that I rest.

So, I'm working on healing, again and am hoping beyond hope that this is the last surgery I have, at least for this year. A surgery a month is WAY too much if you ask me.