responsibility

not surprisingly, one of the biggest reliefs of this relationship is having someone else responsible for making decisions. i'm not saying that i abdicate responsibility for my life, the things i do, and the repercussions (although it would be far easier to do that), but that the complete stress of making important decisions on my own is eradicated.

maybe it's not any different in egalitarian relationships. which i know very little about.

the weight of what my owner has chosen to do for "our" future is pretty big. it's not just me that's making changes, big ones, in order to accommodate a potential future together. it make me that much more wary of fucking this all up, because i know damned well what he's prioritizing, and while it's flattering and special and etc., it's pretty damned scary, too.

i'm overthinking this. he is, too, i think.

everything is almost packed. i can't find the cheese grater. here's a pic of what it looks like, if you find it.

that throwuppy feeling

you know how when big risky decisions get made and you hope and hope and hope you've made the right one and that the path will go forward in the direction towards utopia and beautiful sunsets and very little angst?

that the things that get left behind weren't for the best anyway and the struggles you'll get instead will be infinitely more valuable and love will come in waves upon waves on your head and on the ones around you?

and you can't even risk looking backwards because that makes you even more dizzy?

like that.

response, return

1. What is the image that brought you to the lifestyle?

there's a few from my youth, and a few that actually got me to *do* it, but it's not what you'd think.

i've always been about words. i can't remember how far back my feelings about submission go, hence my belief in the fact that i'm just wired this way. the image i cling to even now, though, is from my own brain, as described in the story of o...

face down on a heavy desk in the office he is taking her ass while the maid enters to ask him a minute question. he doesn't pause he doesn't hide, he continues his action while speaking benignly to the maid. she stares at o while he speaks her face expressing nothing, and then leaves.

yep, that.

2. Submissives: If you could only do one thing for someone . . . one action to serve them and show them how much you care, what would it be?

be a sounding board. i can do lots of things - clean floors, choke on cock, cry. but really what submission is about for me, is about putting my own personal needs aside, my own priorities and interests, and using theirs instead.

3. You have found the one that completes you, you are deliriously happy. They ask you to do one thing and you immediately leave and never speak to them again.

intentionally destroy someone or lie to them for negative reasons (yes, that's vague, but i know what i mean, and that's all that matters). it would undermine who i am as a person. i take issue with the "immediately leave" part, because i'm not sure where chronologically this incident hypothetically falls, and i'm not guaranteeing it's possible to leave.

i have to turn this question into different wording to make it make sense to me - something like, "what do you foresee being the incident that would break you down badly?" or something like that, since the nature of my relationship *currently* can't encompass a willful exit.

dance like no one is watching

"...she is a dancer
when she dances she is free
free in the moment
and clouds rise in the east
to Frank Sinatra
which your parents put on repeat
on repeat..."

-emily jane white

this started out as a piece about sacred whores. but instead it's about freedoms lost and gained and found and lost again and reclaimed.

i used to dance, when i was younger. i was one of those wishful ballerinas, white and dark and always looking at the floor to find my place. i didn't find comfort in the discipline of the rehearsal room, but in the blood found in my shoes when i was done. there was a reason for it, the pain and the sweat and the failings. and reasons for things were what i lived for. i still do. later, i would find myself in the middle of the night dancing in clubs high on whatever could be found and a straining violin above the electric noise.

if given freedom, if it is forced upon me, i'll dance.

parting

i'm struck by the fact that i'm not new to this.

one of the most intense parts of play for anyone, i think, is that raw breaking feeling you get when you meet someone for the first time - the shakes, the giggles, the mouth-parted-eyes-focused newness of it all. your cunt is wet, your feet are dancing in their shoes, and you're wildly terrified, blown away by your own audacity and opportunities.

i could be new to someone, but no longer new to myself. i treasure each act i've never done before, each new scenario, every touch he gives me, every new season we're doing this together. but it's not the same thing as being brand, spanking, new.

divorce song

divorce song

in the trunk a split
then lightning hit it with force
already broken


coming up close to the annual mark. i'm preparing my armor this year, i have no intention of being sideswiped by unhappiness. there's no reason for it, anymore, other than as a counterbalance for what i am now.

decisions, decisions

bitchwhore4 says "I owe my Master everything. He insists that I take responsibility for myself."

of course. of course. part of our obligations to our owners/Dominants/Masters/Mistresses is to take care of ourselves. take responsibility, make wise choices. that's sometimes easier said than done - sometimes as someone else's property it's easier to prioritize what's best for them, instead, and to be forced to choose between one obligation (care for self) and the other (prioritizing their needs over one's own), you end up with conflicting obligations. it happens all the time, i think. daily.

if the slave/property/submissive ultimately has to make a choice that prioritizes their own needs, i don't know that that's a bad thing - it's something we're obligated to do when push comes to shove. unhappy robots are not attractive slaves, i don't think (although i suppose that's an overgeneralization, i have no idea what everyone wants...)

it's not the decision to prioritize differently that bothers me. it's the choice-making, sometimes in a vacuum of input from the owner that's hard. necessary, but hard.

10 things i learned so far

1. that i mean it when i say it.
2. it's not so easy to say it in the first place, so i'd better think carefully first. leading to...
3. think before i speak. loose lips sink - subs.
4. labels suck, and i don't care what you think i am (or not). it only matters what he thinks, and what i think. rest of y'all can eat my dust, i'm not waiting for you to catch up.
5. the things i don't want to do are what i consider edge play for me. they may be tiny things to anyone else, but that's where he pushes my so-called limits.
6. i will not go backwards.
7.pain does not make me wet. submitting does.
8. love came secondarily, not primarily, and that's ok. love as an afterthought isn't such a bad thing.
9. love is not a guarantee or a promise. it just - is.
10. i'm stronger than anyone realizes. except him, maybe. he realizes it. now i realize it.

opportunity knocks

the idea of having to make choices i haven't made in months kind of freaks me out. little things, like where to go for dinner, whether or not to have dessert or masturbate or even sit down on a chair, become waaaay more important than they ever have. i didn't blink when i gave them up, and now i'm swallowing hard upon the realization that in a week or so i'll have to do that again.

have to.

see, that's the weird part. i can intellectually realize that i'm meant for this, that i've never been more comfortable with myself and the world around me. but to take a step backwards and examine it and say yes, i don't want it back the other way, is disturbing. as part of the excercise, i will most likely pick the dinner location, the menu, and even when i will excuse myself to the restroom by my own choice, along with what color lipstick. maybe i'll even wear pants.

but maybe i'll wait for him to choose. maybe i won't have dessert. maybe i'll wear a pretty skirt and my hair down.

because i'm not sure i remember how to do otherwise.

the problem with blogging and other rambles

the problem with blogging is that it is not a diary.

i go from opposite to polar opposite. i need someone/i do not need anyone. i want to tell the world/i want to hide from it. i am obligated to tell him everything/to tell him would be to defy him. i understand his goals for me/i have no fucking clue where we're going. i don't want to feel awful/i've eroticized emotional pain.

am i the classic doormat for accepting and encouraging a situation that most of the world would view as damaging? no - i'm not questioning my labels anymore, i'm just saying. how far is too far?

it all comes down to determining what it is that i want. i slapped myself in the face today (theoretically) for not understanding something very basic about my own needs, short and long term.

i need a best friend.

the world in and of itself is a very isolating place. when you narrow down to "people who's lives are somewhat similar to mine", i'm left with a group of bdsm'ers that i usually have little in common with otherwise. narrow it down further to bdsm'ers that focus on the M/s dynamic, and the group gets pretty damned small. and it's heartbreaking to realize that some of the folks i'd have gotten along with because of that don't fit with other parts of my life so well, so it's often a lost cause.

bdsm, and specifically the M/s lifestyle, is the defining aspect of my life - there, i said it. so it then becomes the first thing i look for in a friend. how joyful and gratifying it would be to have your companion be your best friend, with the same inherent defining core.

the rest of it is just trappings.

push

triggered by kitty's post a 'me' post... i'm not a slave....

just another demarcation point. life's a changin', and i'm while i'm not dreading the next part as the term end of my contract approaches, i'm almost high with anticipation about it, and we're pushing edges almost daily. is this why they call it a fever pitch?

i spent over 15 years firmly in the land of submission with an occasional side dish of bisexual sadism.

i fought it, and fought it, and fought it, until one sentence this past year from someone i trust just about more than almost anyone else brought it all crumbling down.

yes, i am a slave. i know, now, that the reason i've been struggling in relationships for as long as i have is because i was unwilling to acknowledge this. so i suppose the answer to your question is no, i can't change that. i've tried, and failed miserably.

i know that who and what i am is unusual, and to some, even, unacceptable, dangerous, immoral and pathological. but i've never been happier in my entire life than with this realization. it's not right for everyone, and honestly - if i'd had had a choice about it, i'm not sure i'd have chosen it - it's a hard path. but it's mine.

here's what gets me.

what gets me every time is the realization that i'm not done yet. i keep expecting some kind of vague - disillusionment, or boredom, or frustration to sneak up behind me and overwhelm the sense of satisfaction my life has taken on, recently.

even with all the bad stuff. even with that.

i was talking to someone the other day about why i am involved in a bdsm community. i always have been, since i've been involved in bdsm for most of my adulthood. certainly a community isn't necessary to do bdsm, and certainly the advent of the internet lessened the need for people to find each other in the flesh. but i continue to contribute to a community, even if it's simply by showing up to events rather than volunteering more of my time, because i know that when i needed one, when i was first looking for perverts like me, a community existed for me to be welcomed into. it literally, saved my life. so, if means that once every few months i show up at a dinner, a party, i pay a fee, i write a web post, or something, it's important to me as a citizen of the world to contribute.

i keep expecting to not need it. as long as i've been doing this, i keep expecting to have this need to be pushed, forced, further, to go away. i tried going vanilla for a while, even, to my own and my (then)partner's great dissatisfaction.

but i cannot escape the fact that i am indeed a healthier, happier person when i am under someone else's control.

what makes this healthy is that this realization gives me the strength i'd need to do it on my own, control my own life, if i had to. because shit happens, you know? and i may end up on the curb, on my own after all - it's happened before.

i've said it before, but it's worth repeating: no matter what happens, no matter where we end up with this and who we end up becoming or not becoming for each other, i will always be grateful to you for letting me - become.

in the moment

i'm fiercely attached to my moments. it's not quite like having a photographic memory, since it's not based on the visual. but i imagine a rolodex of images and thoughts and seconds, tiny blips of memory i flip through. i don't forget things. makes my head hurt, actually.

so i remember exactly what i was thinking and the tone of your voice and how the skin around your lips moved and what shoes i was wearing for all of it.

yes, this is a marker, a thing on the way, so i remember where i was when i get somewhere else.

beginning

do you remember the beginning of what you have now? how did it start? were there tiny tendrils reaching out through the air between the two of you, small touches and pricks and a small joy each time you connected?

when did it become big? when did it become something larger than you intended, carrying more dimensions and weight? or, alternatively, when did you feel it start to end - where was the endgame's beginning?

a chess game has a beginning, a middle, and an end, you said. a beginning when you assess, check your targets, their strengths and weaknesses. the middle, when you make your move, your strategies begun.

and there's an endgame. when you know you've reached the point when there is nothing left but success or failure.