a day in the life

copied from my response to a thread on fetlife ('cause i know you're wondering how we're doing):

typical day: alarm rings at 7:15 - mostly to get kids on the bus in time. i usually set the coffee to go off at 7:00 so it's ready when we get up. if i haven't, i'm expected to get up and make it before anything else, including going to the bathroom. if he's awake, i have to ask permission to go to the bathroom - if not, i have standing orders to let him sleep and do what i gotta do on my own.

my owner works out of his home, so sometimes he'll get up later than that, sometimes earlier, but usually around the same time. early morning activities are mostly a joint effort - getting breakfast, kids' stuff together, fires lit. we've usually discussed the night before what needs to happen that day, so by the time the kids are out of the house we're onto that plan. more often than not he'll make breakfast for both of us while i'm doing other stuff, and we'll eat together while finishing up the final plans for the day.

i rattle off my list of chores/duties/errands i'm planning on getting done, and he'll either nod or nix as needed. he tries to keep my time away from home to a minimum, so if i can coordinate errands to keep the time down, i do. i usually get a to-do list to add to my own at that point. then the morning's business begins. i usually ask him if he's hungry mid-morning and then again at lunch time, prepare the meal, and then clean up all the detritus from the morning/lunch. if i've been out, i'm expected to get it done sometime in the afternoon.

afternoons usually include some sort of outdoor activity - working on firewood, shoveling, gardening, whatever's seasonally necessary. kids are home around 4, so i'm back to the business of that until dinner time. very occasionally he'll take a break from work at that point and join in the food preparation (it's fun - not an obligation for him), and then we'll sit down to dinner around 6:30. if he's still working, i try to give him a heads up so he can join us.

our bedtime varies hugely - sometimes very early, sometimes very late - usually dependent upon his workload. i do not go to bed without permission, and that usually doesn't happen until he's ready to go himself. in warmer weather i'll curl up at his feet while he's working, in colder weather, he lets me stay on the couch by the fire. sometimes i'm instructed to handle the firewood before bed, sometimes he's kind enough to do it himself.

our out-of-the-ordinary time is usually mid-week when there's a small lull in his workload. i do try to ask to plan it if possible - i love spending time with him. sometimes just a drive through the hills, sometimes something more kinky at home.

boring. nice. works for us.

breakdown

there are two things that happened.

one, is that i got my feelings hurt.

the other is that i realized my feelings are irrelevant. just something else for you to examine, toy with, abuse and change, if you feel like it.

except it doesn't work like that.

in other dynamics, egalitarian ones, one could have an expectation of hearing something like, at the worst, "i think you're being pretty ridiculous about this, but i'm sorry if i hurt your feelings."

i am trying to remind myself that a) this is not an egalitarian relationship, b) apologies are not something i can expect, and c) how i felt about any interaction we had isn't your priority.

you have work to do.

one of my primary rules is to never filter how i'm feeling. but that's an awfully hard thing to accomplish when the thing i am trying not to filter away from you is something you disregard as irrelevant. perhaps i should have kept it to myself.

which isn't the right answer either. it's not up to me to determine what is irrelevant and what is not.

all i know is that i am confused and wary.

good news

from the financial end of things. while it's not exactly paving the sidewalk outside the house with gold, it gives me something more than a shaky ladder to stand on. so, yay. being a good, truthful person sometimes actually works, even if it takes twice as long.

a family of deer stopped by the brook in the yard for a drink of water. they had their heavy gray winter coats on, and stopped cold while i went outside for more wood. i stopped cold too, and we all paused while a chickadee bravely jolted around the trees for us. i'm not surprised by the animals, but it was my first interaction with something alive all day on the property. i didn't want it to end.

my finger tips are cracking from the dry air and the cold. yes, i'm remedying it, but the soreness actually reminds me of the work i'm doing.

i heard an interview on the radio yesterday, about a guy who lives out in the country somewhere with his wife. they've reduced their circumstances - heating only with wood, growing food in the gardens, no more fancy trips - the only logical conclusion of the constant layoffs and belt-tightening. he said, "someday we may one day make that six-figure income again, but we'll still live this way. we've realized it's a lifestyle choice, not just a necessity."

yeah.

photo credit: Ache Of Trees by Kevis Somo

interesting

here's some interesting things i noticed.

on occasion, i'm cranky about a task. it's nothing unusual, something i do all the time. but i get into this "well, shit. maybe if you'd help, it'd go faster, and i could do the other ninety gazillion things that need to get done...", or something like that. but i find myself using my obligations and responsibilities and agreements and the knowledge that it's his right to yadda yadda yadda stuff as a crutch, and calm myself down, and get it done.

i think i'm brainwashed.

but in a good way.

and i also noticed this: i have problems with my posture. my owner has made it one of his personal missions in life to correct this. i noticed today during one of my personal cranky moments that my posture instantly turned into one of martyrdom and sacrifice and drudgery. bowed back by suffering, as modeled by my mother for many years.

it disgusted me.

i don't want to mimic something i am not.

i'm working on it.

What the hell is wrong with sex?

i'm annoyed.

most of the public play spaces i've been to in my time are pretty cool. great equipment, nice people, big spread of snacks for the sugar-dropees. but no sex. even in the places where it's not a specific rule, it seems somewhat uncouth to fuck there.

"we're not swingers." "we wanted to differentiate from the swingers." "we do bdsm. not fuck strangers." as if there was something horribly wrong with swinging. or fucking strangers for that matter.

here's the deal. while i don't have a lot of experience swinging, it's not from lack of trying. i'm a heartfelt polyamorous owned cunt, and i like sex. in private. in public. with pain. with torture. with multiple partners, preferably in the same night, with a generous dose of humiliation.

i am so sick of people acting as if sex is something that does not belong in bdsm. jeebus - we do this because we're turned on, right?

what's a girl gotta do to find a fuck-friendly kink fest?

feel good? think again.

"She likes to race my motor
Then slam my hood
She makes me feel good
She makes me feel good..."

-lyle lovett, "she makes me feel good"

in the confusion and chaos of the upcoming move, i forgot to do something. now, i've been doing this particular task for almost a year, so it's not like something changed and i'm still working it into my routine. i just - forgot.

and then forgot again, when reminded.

yeah.

orgasm control is something we've been doing for a very long time. it's almost as if my body totally understands that they do not belong to me, in a way separate from my brain. i suppose that's what behavioral modification is all about, and i do have concerns about what would happen should i ever have to do it on my own again, as unowned, and if i even could. but anyway.

orgasm denial is a whole other thing. there was a full night of torture regarding this (and no relief in sight, may i add in the midst of this very stressful time).

that's as far as i'm going to go with this, because begging and pleading and tantruming i know damned well will only make it worse.

and i do not want it any worse. because every time i imagine things could not get worse, the man keeps finding ways.

me no likey.

nothing changes

you know nothing changes, don't you.

yes, sir.

you know you're a cunt, an owned cunt.

yes, sir.

you know i own you, and you will obey.

yes, sir. please...

you want to come?

yes, sir.

why?

because you're fucking me, sir.

do you want to come because i'm fucking you, or because i'm telling you what you are?

...it's the same thing, sir.

yes, it is.

up down up down

for the most part, this week hasn't gone any better than last week. i go through daily cycles of panic/nausea/relax/numb over and over again. during one of those cycles that almost brought me to tears, my owner calmly told me that he demanded that i show grace under pressure. no exceptions. it worked.

i don't know how dominants do it. i need this. i needed that.

lace isn't warm, and other conditions

the season has officially turned, and i'm not really ready for it. storm windows aren't in place, and my leg warmers are nowhere to be found (don't mock me about the leg warmers - they work.)

i took the hottest shower i could stand this morning, and returned to get dressed warmly while i wasn't frozen. sorting through my underwear drawer, i began to curse.

i don't have granny panties anymore. the only stuff left is lacy, silky, easily-torn frothy stuff.

all i want is warm cotton snuggled up against my cold ass, and it ain't gonna happen.

somehow this happened without any conscious awareness on my part. kind of like how i now am a fan of cilantro. and how i like being (good grief, when did this happen?!?!) outside.

behavioral modification is a big frosty bite in the butt.

the finer details

in response to my earlier post all the time, i got some lovely dialog going (on my other blog, mostly identical to this one). to clarify one of the responses, which said (and i'm taking out of context, but...) "Essentially you could say, 'I'm sick of this shit' and walk away. "

"when D and i ended our contract, there was a strange nebulous time when we didn't know what was going to happen next. i was no longer his formally contracted submissive, and technically i had the option of not being that, or anything else, again. for me, there is one huge primary difference between being a submissive and being a slave, and that is that as a slave i cannot say "i'm sick of this shit" and leave.

i mean, i could try.

but i have agreed to give him the right to not allow that to happen.

he might allow it to happen, if he was sick of it, too. or if he saw that it simply wasn't healthy for me and he wanted me to be healthy. or he himself might end it if he was sick of it, even if i wasn't. all of those things are possible (and currently undesireable, i believe, by both of us), and i don't think i'd have entered into a M/s relationship with him if i didn't believe he could make intelligent decisions about all that. (yah - the "trust" thing).

but ultimately, it is not up to me. and that's what makes me a slave, and that's what makes this an absolute relationship. which is what allows me to trust him, which is what makes the sex hot, which is what gratifies me on a spiritual level. it's that simple fact."

all the time

"I never worry
Now that is a lie..."

- rhcp, under the bridge

i've been thinking a lot about this whole 24/7 concept. i'm not all that interested in changing anyone's mind about their own definition of it. i'm also not that interested in making changes to my own relationship because of what someone else thinks it means. recently i was reading a blogger who i respect a great deal, and their (what i consider to be) rigid opinion of this disappointed me. i'm just not one to argue the point, but it's made me think about it.

so here's the thing. conceptually, a "24/7" arrangement is one where there is no break. there's no time out, there's no re-negotiation, there's no aftercare (in the sense that there is no "after"). but the challenge becomes how we think about obedience, service, and control.

there are vanilla relationships that are 24/7. those people are never *not* in the relationship because they aren't living together. parenting is 24/7. but when your kid is, say, at overnight camp, or visiting their other parent for a visit, you're not not a parent. why is it any different with M/s relationships? the assumption seems to be that unless you are directly under someone's use and control you are not in a 24/7 arrangement.

i think that's crap. unless you have your slave literally in your line of vision or otherwise chained up while they are not.

my point is, that i am not doing my owner's bidding every.single.second. because (surprise! shocker!) he doesn't have the freakin' time to direct when i take a breath, eat a cracker, sigh, or sit. sometimes his directions are simply to take care of it myself. i am 24-hours-a-day, 7-days-a-week, doing what he wants. and sometimes that's to just leave him in peace.

isn't that the point of being a slave? a slave is what i am, not what i do, or where i live.

desperation and a note

"Hello, hello... (Hola)
I'm at a place called Vertigo (dónde estás?)
It’s everything I wish I didn’t know
But you give me something...
I can feel..."

-U2, vertigo

a conversation the other day and the virtually simultaneous realization about the nature of chaos. i don't always succeed in pleasing you, and this leaves me spinning in my head wondering what move to make next to come back to balance.

this is what i wrote about childhood, and the implications of that within the adult bdsm context:

"the dynamics in my house growing up were confusing, to say the least. i was taught and told some things verbally ("be a strong capable woman!") that deeply conflicted with the actions i was shown. it wasn't necessarily a positive thing. in fact, what i ended up with was extremely confusing regarding who has power/when it should be exerted as an adult. in other words, nothing i was raised with has stuck beyond the expected arousal triggers and wiring, since nothing made sense as far as the power dynamics went.

i think i come to M/s out of a need for order in the midst of chaos, rather than a need to mimic a kind of relationship i saw or wanted as a child. M/s relationships are the only ones that are absolute (in my experience), and that's very comforting to someone who's childhood and examples were very chaotic and misery-making. the sexual part is probably both wiring and context. "

important stuff. at least to me.

an oldie but goodie

"...and some stayed on to finish what they started
They never parted, they're just built that way..."

-the band, "acadian driftwood"

you expect me to hand over trust like a candy. i've got a hard shell just like you, and i smile pretty, but my teeth are just as sharp.

goddammit i want to believe. my reasons for choosing to keep moving forward at times are selfish, because i don't want to disappoint *myself*. but that's as important to me, still, as not disappointing you, so it'll do in a pinch.

okay, let's go, i'm in.

untitled

desperate note to self: it is not up to me to decide what he needs or does not need.

the multiple hats of luna

i'm having a hard time writing about this issue, and i kinda know the reason. i'm having a hard time because writing a blog is like writing on a circular stage, with the audience ever changing. the "characters" in the blog, including myself, my owner, the him's, and the her's, have their own identities somewhat separate from the realities of who we all are. i'm a writer, and i can't help but try to present consistency in the characters i'm presenting.

so i don't like to present issues that fuck with that consistency. that's kinda vague, but for better or worse, this blog ain't so much interactive about that.

i wear a lot of hats in my relationship with my owner, not just the one i call slave. i think i really do prefer the label property, if i get to choose, because that implies so much more, i think, than the restrictive "slave" label. no, i never get to choose, i don't have any privacy, and the only things that remain under my control in my life are the things my owner has decided are best that way, with the understanding that said issues are under my control are a privilege, not a right.

one of the hardest hats i wear is idea-bouncer. it's not the most disliked (that's my hat called "official floor cleaner"), but it's the hardest. i know my owner trusts me to present not only the truth at all times, but to be proactive about it when necessary. every time i speak out of turn i'm taking a risk that it will not be acceptable or appreciated. if he didn't ask me for my opinion, i'd better have a damned good reason for saying it.

i am always aware of this.

don't get me wrong - i talk a lot. a *lot*. and often proactively.

so yeah, i take a lot of risks, even when i speak.

that's me, risk taking owned bitch. livin' on the edge.

(image author unknown, found on the blog "the tempest files".pretty, though, ain't it?).

an apology

"An apology pretends to cancel out whatever action, or in this case nonaction, caused injury or offense, but it doesn't carry the same significance or weight as the action or nonaction itself, not even close."

- Kate Christensen, "The Epicure's Lament"

i stared down my desire for an apology until i no longer needed it, or even wanted it. when i live in a world where action is louder than words, where what you do is more significant than anything i could say, or you could say, i can't expect an apology, especially where one is not obligated to do so.

why do we teach our children to apologize when they've done something wrong? they never mean it. it's never heartfelt, or genuine - at most, what we get is an acknowledgment that someone somewhere has determined that they cannot continue on their way until they pay this particular toll. they rarely understand why they're required to do so, and i'm not sure i get it either anymore. so much of what i do is outside of the norm, why should i play by the same rules at this, too?

i know that i am obligated to apologize when i have done something wrong. i know that you are not. i'm not sure what significance there is to the words coming out of my mouth, or not coming out of yours, if really what matters is what happened. i'd much rather say something like "i'll do my best to not let it happen again," rather than mutter some nonsense about guilt that i may or may not feel.

and what about you? yes, my feelings get hurt sometimes. i may be an objectified devoted human, but still human.

you are never required to apologize. and as usual, i watch your actions instead.

R-E-S-P-E-C-T

the whole brat thing confuses me. cuteness, i get. whip-smart i get. i even get i'm-not-actually-submissive-but-i-am-a-slave. but i've never been able to wrap my brain around the brat concept. i mean, i get it from an intellectual standpoint (gosh knows you'll never find me saying something is *wrong* with it), i just can't seem to put myself into that particular role with any success. it doesn't come naturally.

i've been up and down and through all the thinking about why i do things my owner requires or directs when i don't want to. big things and little things. (last night, for example, he added more vegetables than i wanted to my plate. i ate them.) i don't think i'm in a place yet where i never ever consider not obeying - i can't claim internal enslavement. there's often a brief second or two of "but i don't wanna," before i do it.

so why? it's never been about love. it's sometimes about trust, but that's not really the constant.

i think the reason i do it, for him, is respect. every time i obey, even when i don't want to, it's about showing respect. he deserves that, i think. if i *don't* do whatever-it-is, then i am actively disrespectful. *that*, i don't want to do. i can't bear to think about how he would feel if i were disrespectful. and i guess in my twisted brain, brattiness is the ultimate show of disrespect.

no disrespect to anyone who likes brats, of course.

the rules

i thought i'd post these - they're kind of interesting, when i step back a bit. i hear so much talk from s-types about the attempt at weight-loss, overall health, and submission together that i thought i'd be interesting to actually post my rules per my owner. i've taken them somewhat from an earlier comment i made on the last post. i should also mention that i don't currently have weight or health issues that these are specifically aimed at - it's an overall consciousness of health kind of thing.

1. no sugar treats with no nutritional value. period. ever. for example, vanilla yogurt is okay (not great), but not ice cream. very rarely do i get sugar treats (like, once every few weeks, if that.) i believe i've broken this rule exactly once. i'm scared to ever do it again.

2. i am required to track every single non-water item that goes in. (and out, for that matter.) writing it down makes me super-conscious of it. this is an intense rule - it's really hard sometimes to write it all down. i keep a notepad on my kitchen counter. he checks it periodically, and randomly.

3. i tend to eat carbs when i'm tired (especially now since i don't get sugar), so i have to be careful i'm not eating too much bread, or he makes note of it and structures an actual diet for a while. "sweet" kind of bagels are out, as are (ahem) english muffins. no sweet rolls, no croissants.

4. i've found that i *have* to eat a large portion of protein first meal of the day (eggs, cheese, something) and not just fruit - i tend to sugar crash and binge later.

5. in the last month, i'm now required to eat a *large* portion of greens if i want an orgasm that day. the window for opportunity is open daily, but closes at the close of each day (in other words, no saving it for the next day). this is new, and i'll probably lose that opportunity as soon as the greens are more common in my diet per his liking.

6. 8oz of water once a day. this also used to be tied to orgasm control, since i'm not a big water drinker, but now it's incorporated enough that that's gone. juice, tea, etc are not acceptable. only water.

7. i keep a huge bowl of fruit on my counter. i eat a lot of yogurt. and nuts. i tend to snack on dairy more than he'd like, so i've gotten a raised eyebrow over that, but nothing else. yet.

8. i'm counting myself lucky i still get coffee. i still also get diet coke as i want it, but he hates that, and i'm expecting it'll be off my list pretty soon. i drink it less now though on my own, so maybe not.

9. sets of crunches daily before bed. about 40.

10. twice weekly yoga classes, and one valiant attempt at cardio weekly. i used to use the treadmill but hurt my knee badly last year, so now i use the elliptical machine. about 2 miles, doesn't matter how long it takes. in general, the expectation is that i can handle a medium-length day hike without strain.

11. yoga poses through the week as i can fit them in. that's pretty easy - they help my overall physical well being, so i like this part. it's the class i have trouble with.

12. nightly yoga stretches.

13. i also detail for him when i'm feeling - poorly, for lack of a better word. very rarely i ask for permission to skip the nightly routine, and sometimes i even get it.

again, it's important to note, i think, that this routine is meant for overall improvement and some slight weight loss. it's more about toning and maintenance than a definitive goal.

no, i couldn't do it on my own.

driven insane by food rules

i want sugar. not yoga. i want:

oreo cookies
lemon meringue pie
key lime pie
chocolate mousse
creme brulee
a hershey bar, with almonds
mocha latte
non-diet coke
brownies
cheesecake
strawberry shortcake
mudslide sundae
goobers
jelly beans
birthday cake
pancakes

some days, i feel like i'm just going to snap.

you'd think after all this time i'd either just give in a realize it ain't gonna happen and find some fucking peace about it, or give in and take the consequences.

somehow i can't seem to do either. this isn't a whine, this is a helpless, sweating-it-out in a daily basis kind of thing. i rarely get angry at my owner, and when i do, it's almost inevitably about food.

the other day, i asked and received permission to eat an english muffin with cheese. this was a moment to note because bread is on the "my eyebrow is raised you'd better watch it" list. not completely forbidden, but it's not exactly high on the "wonderful!" list, either. but before i could run off and take full advantage of the permission as given (as i'm wont to do these days - i no longer stand around hemming and hawing and looking gift horses in the mouth) he added "with an egg." not a big deal, no?

but i didn't want an egg.

what i wanted was freedom to pick my own goddamned breakfast the way i wanted it. i was so incredibly pissed off that i sat my ass down on the couch in the other room and fumed about it. to the point where i resentfully thought to myself, "fine. i won't eat anything, then."

which doesn't work, now, does it. especially when you're hungry.

so i got up, cooked the goddamned stupid egg, stuck it on my now-tasteless english muffin, and ate it.

yeah, slavery is so glamorous i can't stand it. the extra-sad thing about all this is that i know my owner is going to read this and laugh hysterically, and then eliminate english muffins. sigh.

**edit** yeah, we're all shocked. indeed, hysterical laughter and a new addition to the forbidden list: english muffins.

verbalize me.

things i am not allowed to say:

nevermind
oy
no i will not (to my owner)
his name
please may i come
i want

things i am required to say:

may i
Sir
yes, Sir
of course, Sir
with all due respect


i'm thisclose to an actual punishment for something off the first list. it's a verbal tic, something i say all the time, and half the time i don't even hear myself say it until he's pointed it out. the first time he put a simple word on the forbidden list i was out of my mind with anxiety - it was a verbal tic as well, and i can't tell you the number of times my face was slapped as a result.

i learned.

i'm not as worried about this one, although i've been pushing it lately. i'm running out of my "warning" zone and into my "punishment" zone. it reminds me of a conversation about punishment i read somewhere - is it right, or fair, to punish your [slave/submissive/cuntpet/whatever] for something as arbitrary as a verbal tic? but it's not really about fairness.

i recently asked my owner whether he thought i needed to be broken. he saw right through me, as usual, and wanted to know if i was envious of other slaves that had been "broken" by their owners. yes, of course, i suppose i am. i need that ultimate pent-up energy unleashed all in one swoop kind of stuff. doesn't everyone?

no, he said. you came to me already broken in. you've been in a constant mode of training ever since.

i'm not sure how that makes me feel. like i'm missing something?