Addendum to Humility and Pride

These are the definitions I'm working with when I talk about pride.

Pride:
1. satisfaction with self: the happy satisfied feeling somebody experiences when having or achieving something special that other people admire took great pride in his work
2. proper sense of own value: the correct level of respect for the importance and value of your personal character, life, efforts, or achievements Defeat didn't damage her pride.

The more I think on it, the more I can see that for some, slavery entails giving up at least some of that sense of self. I'm thankful for variety because I've been self-effacing in a negative way and it was extremely unhealthy, I'm fearful of falling back into that way of being again. I still have a difficult time accepting compliments because I don't always feel worthy of them, and I'm still uncomfortable with having attention focused on me.

I think I can be a good slave without giving up my sense of self and without giving up the positive bits of pride that I have.

Humility and Pride

I was reading Slavecraft last night and came across an essay about humility. In it the author talked about pride being a negative thing for him and his slavehood. He also talked about humility being a goal for him as a slave. Some of the examples were not taking credit for work he's done, sitting on the most uncomfortable chairs and leaving the comfy ones for the Master he serves, etc.

Imagine, if you will, my brain screeching to a halt at these words. I don't think pride is a negative thing unless one becomes cocky or arrogant and I don't understand the line of thinking that says it is negative in and of itself. I take pride in doing a job well, this feeds into my self-esteem and self-confidence which leads to me being mentally healthy and happy. I guess I just don't understand how a person can't have even just a teensy bit of pride, for me it's a natural reaction when I've done a job well.

For me, the whole pride as a negative smacks of my Baptist beginnings which tried to convince me I was evil because I was female. *note: I am not making generalizations about all Baptists this was just my experience in one church* So maybe I'm having a knee-jerk reaction to the essay on humility and I need to give it another read without the filters.

Right now my ideas on the subject feel very solid. Pride, in moderation, is a good thing. I didn't always take pride in myself, I didn't care how I looked, I can only describe my previous appearance as dumpy. I wore any old thing, the baggier the better, and I didn't do much with my hair. When I see old pictures of myself I just want to burn them. I really looked horrid and what's worse, I remember how awful I always felt. It took years to build my self-esteem up to what it is now and part of that process involved learning to take a little pride in myself and in the things I did. Another part of the process has involved my learning to accept compliments, I had no concept of my self-worth.

I'm not saying that I think humility is a bad thing either, I think humility is the balance for pride, it keeps us from becoming arrogant or cocky.

My lack of understanding of the author's viewpoint is likely due to the type of owner I belong to and the way we came to M/s. He encourages me to retain my personhood, I'm not sure he'd like me if I were more humble, and possibly self-effacing. He seems to enjoy my spirited, cheeky, and passionate nature and even does things to invoke each aspect at certain times.

I guess it's only natural, when confronted with another way of doing things, to examine one's own way of doing things to see if there's something that could be improved. Maybe it's only natural for me. That's what I'm doing right now, looking for that which needs improved. However, unless Master says otherwise, I don't think I'm giving up the bit of pride I have in myself and the things I do.

Hot Patootie, Bless My Soul!

I'm watching Rocky Horror Picture Show and enjoying some much sought-after quiet time while attempting to get sleepy enough to go to bed. Yes, I know, RHP is not really conducive to sleep what with the Time Warp and all but I must try.

The next few days will be busy and full as we get the kids ready to start school again this week. Read: see me adjusting to an early morning schedule again. I'm not looking forward to that part of the new school year.

I've been doing a bit of pleasure reading here and there. I finished The Slave, the second in The Marketplace series. This one actually evoked a bit of an emotional response in me, the first one didn't do that at all, it was simply titillating. I look forward to reading the next one when I get the opportunity. I'm also delving into Slavecraft while letting The Surrendered Wife take a short trip to the back burner.

Other than that it's business as usual. I think we've found a balance but I'm afraid that will all be turned upside down when I begin classes again next week. I know we'll figure things out as they come, in the meantime I'm remembering to do the little things that help keep me sane.

Still Here

Contrary to appearances I haven't dropped off the face of the Earth. No, instead I've had a summer cold and it kicked my butt for a few days. I'm happily feeling a bit better today.

I'm still working and it looks like they may work with my school schedule which right now seems like a blessing. The only downside is that I may not be able to be on the dedicated team I was hired for which kind of sucks. I don't mind the work but it's frazzling sometimes to have to know, or at least be able to find, information for numerous clients. Being on a dedicated team for one client whose information I'd eventually know inside and out would be, well, heavenly. I really hate not knowing things when I'm expected to know them. I dislike feeling like I'm out of my depth, it makes me feel vulnerable and insecure and that just blows goats.

I went and picked up my buttload of books for the fall term and was just blown away by the size, weight, and amount of books that I have to have. Good grief! A person could be killed by a sturdy blow to the head with my medical dictionary. Yeah, who knew books could be weapons, leave it to me to think of it. *eg*

Master's been feeling extra frisky lately, I have no idea why but I'm not about to question it. Last night as we were lying in bed he decided to spank me. I was lying on my side with my back to him reading and he pulled the blankets up, exposing my bottom and began to spank the uppermost cheek. I pretended indifference for a while, just being cheeky, and tried to continue reading while he spanked me. The truth is it felt awesome, I've become such a spanko lately and I'm not quite sure why, but I wasn't ready to tell him yet that I was enjoying it. He eventually ramped up the intensity to a point that I couldn't pretend any longer. I began to moan and squirm just a teensy bit. He alternated spanking with stroking my bottom with his hand and pressing his hard cock against it or stroking my breasts and pinching my nipples.

Eventually he tired of the spanking and decided orgasms were in order for both of us. Say no to an orgasm? Me? Surely you jest! I don't know what it is about midnight sex in the dark but it always seems more intense, hotter. He had me lying on my back with his fingers inside while I used the pocket rocket on my clit. I tell you, his fingers are magic, he knows exactly where to touch me inside, how much pressure to use, and at what speed to thrust his fingers in and out. It wasn't long before I felt the orgasm building then washing over me, I had to beg him to slow his thrusting fingers because it was so intense and just as he slowed down I felt another peak, as if another orgasm was beginning.. I was beside myself with pleasure, grunting and groaning into my pillow to muffle my noises. Then I was limp on the bed trying to catch my breath.

Instead of letting me rest and come down he tweaked my nipples and stroked my clit, enjoying my twitching and flailing. My entire body is hyper-sensitive after orgasm and little touches send me into uncontrollable spasms which gives him quite a thrill to see. After a short amount of time he tired of that and it was his turn. He had me get into position on the bed and using my ample wetness, slid in to the hilt. I gasped as his cockhead stroked that ever so sensitive spot inside me. It seems like his cock was made just for f*cking me, it's the perfect length and hits all the right spots every time. He started with a slow but steady pace but I was eager for a forceful f*cking so I thrust back against him trying to urge him to go faster. He resisted my urgings and kept his own pace. When he came he thrust so deeply that it made me gasp "So deep, so deep" and he thrust even deeper, I wanted to scream it felt so good.

Midnight sex... yeah, that's the best. *smiles*

Me Time

Yesterday I took everyone's advice and made some "me" time. After dinner I went upstairs, put a little "do not disturb except in case of emergency" sign on the door and locked myself in. I put on the Native American Flutes cd I have and after a shave, pedicure, and shower, I filled the tub with a little warmer than I like water and bubbles smelling of lavender and vanilla, lit some candles, and climbed in. I had a nice little soak and stayed in until I was good and pruney.

At some point I began to feel aroused and wished Master were home. *g* However, it was nice having a good chunk of alone time. I needed it.

After the bath I felt SO good, my skin was silky soft and I was relaxed and happy. The rest of the evening was just nice. I watched TV with LMR until Master came home and took me out for a short drive.

Today has been a lazy day which is OH so nice.

Oh, maybe I should mention that Friday night Master and I played and it was GOOD. It was the best way to start a weekend. He headed upstairs and called me up, I had no idea he'd been planning to play. When I got up there the blankets were off the bed and he had music playing. He helped me undress and then placed the blindfold on me. Normally I get skittish about it but I relaxed into it. He spanked me a bit then had me climb onto the bed and lie down. He gave me a thorough spanking then until I began to moan loudly into the pillow. That was goooooood. He did this a few times, each time the spanks becoming harder. Then he pulled out the dreaded Wartenburg Wheel. *shudders* I hate that thing, really I do. He tortures me with it, delighting in my desperate attempts to hold still all the while I'm shrieking and begging him to stop.

I ended up rolling all over the bed in an attempt to get away from him and that wheel and giggling too. Somewhere in there he alternated the wheel with sucking on my toes which just bothers me to no end. I don't find it erotic at all and will do my level best to escape if I can. I thought for sure it'd be a torture night but he had other plans.

He had me get back into position and flogged my backside from shoulders to thighs. It's too bad the floggers are so loud, he couldn't do too much with them. (we weren't alone in the house) I wasn't ready for him to stop, I loved the flogging the best.
He moved to this other toy we've got, I've no idea what to call it. I guess I'd describe it as a limp sjambok, the dang thing HURTS! It's a wicked, wicked, wicked toy and takes only the slightest tap to have a strong impact. He didn't use it long before he switched to the canes, thank goodness. He caned me until I was sobbing and screaming into the pillow and that was that. We snuggled then. I felt limp, wrung out, and positively relaxed. It wasn't long though before we found other things to entertain us. *g* Good play followed by good sex, that's the way I like to start a weekend.

Too Much on My Plate

As I laid awake in bed last night I began to think that maybe I've just got too much on my plate, or will have once the fall term at school starts. I have a job, I have school, I have my family, I have my responsibilities as a group leader. At the same time I'm trying to reconnect with my spirituality and improve myself as a slave.

Am I trying to have it all? I kept thinking over and over that maybe there's something I ought to give up for the time being. I mean, there's only so much multi-tasking this woman can do. At the end of the day I'm fried and pretty much useless. My body is telling me that it won't accept much more yet here I am fixing my school schedule so I won't be traveling back and forth to Ankeny twice in a day, instead I'll be spending four hours in class on Fridays and then four hours at work.

I'm starting to not bounce back after a night's work, the pain is starting to linger and sets in sooner at work. I'm not willing to admit defeat though, I suck it up and just deal with it. As he keeps telling me, there are people who work full-time and go to school. I just find myself wondering how many of them have families, are in service to their Masters, and have chronic pain. Maybe I'm just a wimp. I feel inadequate when compared to others because I can't just ignore the pain and I can't push much past my body's limits. I know he doesn't mean to but that's precisely what happens when he says things like that. I feel as if I'm being compared to those folks who can seem to manage school and a full-time job and I feel as if I've been found lacking.

Still, I try. I try to live up to his expectations of me while trying to live up to my own as well. All the while I feel like I'm drowning. And school hasn't even started yet.

A Chat With Master

Master: So, I read your journal. I see you're going to try to give up more control. I like that you want to give it up but I also like taking it too.

I think I grinned a lopsided grin at him at this point and didn't say much. I don't often unless something needs to be said.

I have to say that my favorite form of communication is written and Master doesn't seem to mind reading my journal. It usually sparks conversations and we come to deeper understandings. I'm not a very talkative person and won't often say much, Master, on the other hand, is a talkaholic. *grins* He could be domly and force me to speak and in cases where I'm upset he will, and that's probably good for me. But most of the time he seems happy to give me space to write and then takes time to read it and if there's something he wants to talk about, he will.

I feel like we've got a deeper understanding and clearer communication since he began reading my journals. He seems a lot more content too.

I thought it might be nice to give a little glimpse into our way of communicating. I don't talk much about it but that doesn't mean that it doesn't happen. We couldn't have a successful relationship without communication.

Give Up Control

As I mentioned in my last entry I'm reading the book The Surrendered Wife by Laura Doyle. I'm trying a bit of an experiment, I'm going to blog some of the exercises and the results. So far in my reading I think this book has an application to the M/s lifestyle.

One premise of the book is that some of us control freaks do so out of fear that has grown from past junk. That, in my experience, is pretty spot on. Another is that displaying a lack of trust in one's mate says that you made a bad choice and married someone "beneath" you. The key point is to surrender and trust, allow yourself to be vulnerable, thereby inviting more intimacy and allowing your mate to be himself, to be a man. I can go with the idea that surrendering will invite more intimacy and will allow him to be the Master he is.

So, the first "exercise" is to "list five situations where you've been controlling with your husband(in this case, Master) recently. For each situation, ask yourself what it was you were afraid would happen? Was your fear realistic? What was the worst-case scenario?"

1.) The air conditioning is wonky in my car and it takes a bit of a trick to get it going. Yesterday, and every day he drives, I tried yet again to explain how to do it without giving him the chance to just do it on his own.

I was afraid it would take longer to get the air conditioning going and that maybe he'd take off just assuming that it'd eventually get going.
It wasn't a realistic fear, he doesn't want to sweat any more than I do.
Worst-case scenario would be that we drove the whole way home with the air not running. Needing to control the situation didn't justify demonstrating a lack of trust in Master.

2.) Master is making a dish for dinner later this week that is "mine" and I was unsure if he knew how to make homemade mashed potatoes for it so I asked him if he knew how and had him talk me through it step by step correcting him along the way.

I was afraid the dish wouldn't turn out right and that night's dinner would be awful.
It wasn't a realistic fear, if he's unsure of how to make something he'll look it up or ask me how I do it, he's not helpless.
Worst-case scenario, he'd do it on his own and I'd come home to either a horrible mess or something else entirely. Not the end of the world.
My needing to control the situation wasn't justified.

3.) When discussing his sharing me with others I talk about my health concerns. I know that he's aware of my susceptibility to certain things but I bring these concerns up anyway knowing that instead of risking my health he'll likely back off the idea.

I am truly afraid of getting ill and have the opinion that he's not going to be as concerned about my health as I am. I'm also afraid of being rejected by these "others" because of my body.
My first fear isn't realistic, he takes his responsibility for me very seriously and my being out of commission due to illness isn't fun for him either. My second fear is realistic.
Worst-case scenario is he shares me with others and I get ill and am miserable for a few weeks or the others he wants to share me with recoil in revulsion and leave.
I want so badly to justify my need for controlling the situation with these fears but I can't. I have to trust in him to not only care for my body but my mind too.

4.) When he drives I give direction and watch his speed.

My fears are that we'll be late arriving, we'll get a ticket, or we'll get in an accident.
They are realistic fears but not things I can control.
The worst-case scenario would be that we arrived late, we got a ticket, or got in an accident.
These fears do not justify trying to control the situation and undermining him.

5.) Sometimes when Master gets off on a rant in public I will pat his leg in an effort to get him to quiet down a bit.

My fear is all to do with being embarrassed in public and possibly ostracized by others.
I don't know if this fear is realistic or not.
The worst-case scenario would be that Master said something to offend someone else leaving me feeling embarrassed and the other person chose to no longer speak to me as a result.
Needing to control this situation isn't justified.

The next step is to bite my tongue and let go, to surrender. This goes along with my trying to step back and ask if I can offer suggestions rather than blithely making them without regard to his desires or feelings.

Awkward slave

Yesterday was my first day off after my first week of work. I looked forward to it all week. Saturday Master and I would be attending our local group's munch together and spending time with our good friends. Saturday Master and I would reconnect.

I was happy and content until it came time to get ready for the munch then the world's worst case of nerves hit me. I felt hyper, nervous, and awkward. I had to shave Master's face and get myself ready. I felt like it was the first time I'd ever done it (shaving his face). I felt so awkward holding that razor, I even screwed up and began shaping sideburns for him instead of the partial beard that he'd requested. *sigh*

It was really strange, I felt giddy the rest of the day and was actually somewhat reserved in my behavior, more deferential to him than usual. I don't understand yet why I felt that way. It had only been about a week since I last shaved his face and it's not unusual to go a week without giving him a shave.

We had an excellent day that ended with us ending a week long sex drought. Perhaps I'll write about that tomorrow.

My birthday was today and I got gift cards from Master and m'Lady for Barnes and Noble. Right now I have The Surrendered Wife and a murder mystery book called The Cutting Room. I've got Slavecraft and The Slave on order. Yay for new books! I'm such a book slut. *g*

Day to Day

So life has been pretty dull lately. I started a new job this week and so far so good though we do get on the phones for the first time tonight. I hate being gone when Master gets home but I'm glad I get home early enough to spend part of the evening with him.

I'm feeling pressured, clustered, and closed in. I have finite time to get things done that need to be done. School starts again soon and that means another whole world of madness. I'm thinking that maybe I should change my schedule so I'm not driving back and forth to Ankeny twice a day two days a week, that's really insane. I'm surprised Master didn't point it out but then again, he's got other things to worry about.

We've both been stressed over money and it's left me feeling very unsexy and unsexual. That's hard because I want to take care of his needs, it's just that by the time we get ready for bed sex is the last thing on my mind. It's really frustrating for him but he's been kind and has given me space.

I'm hoping I'll find a rhythm and settle into a routine soon.

Topping from the Bottom

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Irrational Anger

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

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

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

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

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

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

What If?

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

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

What would I do? How would I cope?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Can't Sleep

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

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

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

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

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

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

Feeling Irritable

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Masochism, Self-Mutilation, and Disassociation

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

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

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

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

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

Fear

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

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

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

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

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

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

Correction

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

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

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

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

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

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

We need to have a chat I think.

Friday Night

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

What does it mean?

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

Joy,

I love you.

Me

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

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

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

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

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

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