Reality, Self-Loathing & Fixing the slave

The last few days have been kind of weird for me. While it has been hot, it doesn't really speak to the internal struggles i've been experiencing. While Master and i definitely are having more time to spend together, and more sex, i've floundered. Becoming anxious, angry, melancholy and frustrated at the drop of a hat, frequently over the smallest things. And the other night, i pretty much flipped my lid because Master didn't come home when i thought (stressing that: when i thought, when i expected) that He would.

In our midnight debate and explanations of what He had thought and what i had thought, i dropped from being angry, frustrated, and feeling forgotten, to essentially being enraged with myself. The inwardly focused rage was awful - i think i hated myself more than i ever have, and i had a huge desire to attack myself physically, to cause injury, to see my own blood. But that lies outside of Master's directives, and worse, i knew if He'd seen me start that, it would hurt Him far more than my frustration and feeling of being forgotten. As i sobbed at the foot of His bed, He asked me if i wanted to keep punishing myself by sleeping on the floor or if i had the courage to ask permission to sleep in His bed.

i managed to pull myself together enough to ask to sleep in His bed, because i needed to know that He still cared about me, even if i didn't care about myself. In His arms, i cried myself to sleep through His whispers of affection and love, that He assured me were always in His heart.

No lie, i slept like shit. Hating oneself does not make for a restful night; i had crappy dreams about everything i had wanted to do at the foot of His bed.

In the morning, we had an approximation of make up sex, which was awesome. It cleared my self-loathing just enough to know that i needed a deeper grounding, and that i was going to be frustrated about it. i asked Master if He would confine me; either cage me or bind me for a while so i could just live in the feeling of helplessness, to find peace in that it is not my say when anything happens.

Master listened to my requests, and came up with a rope harness and binding that really did keep me confined. Even that was a struggle, as i was not a graceful, accepting sort while Master completed the bondage; i pushed His buttons, made Him angry, and then brought all that self-loathing back into play because my ability to clamp down on my negativity was shot. When it was done, He left me alone for a little while, confined, as i had asked. When He came back, i was still rather negative. While bound, completely at His mercy, He messed with me, i don't really even remember all the details other than it involved pain, manual stimulation (which i hate), the GiGi, His fingers deep in me, and His eyes flashing at me with that . . . i don't know . . . angry Domly look, i guess is the best way to describe it . . . When it was done, i was in tears, and He told me when the rope came off, the prisoner hood would go on and the heavy metal manacles would weigh my wrists behind my back.

When the ropes came off, the hood and manacles were waiting for me. i know i was still crying, because the fabric stuck to my tears, and i tried to control my breathing. i don't know how long i was alone, but eventually, the panic won out and i stumbled through the room, looking for the door without sight. Master had stayed very close, because He heard me and was there, moving me back to the safety of His bed. He took me and talked to me, and reaffirmed that my life, and my plans, were at His whim, rather than my own. Reminding me to be patient, to serve and wait with grace . . .

When i came to my senses again, i was cradled in His arms, and couldn't find any bit of self-loathing in my heart as He looked down at me fiercely.

Though i'm dropping hard from our interactions today, i feel safe, grounded, and loved. Another bonus? i like myself.

Prisoner Hood...

A couple of months ago I had the girl choose a swathe of cloth with which to construct a prisoner hood worthy of Guantanamo. I wanted it to be thick enough to block out light but not so thick as to make it too stifling. I gave her the deadline to have it completed before this year's Thunder in the Mountains. So, as fate would have it, my smart-assed slave finally finished the hood in the last days leading into the Thunder weekend.

It was impressively constructed, folded twice and sealed with thick, sturdy seams. There is a draw string sewn into the bottom so that it can be tied tightly around the girl's neck, sealing her off inside. Nearly no light makes it through the bag, even when facing bright sources. And though it is a bit of a labor to breathe, it can remain on for long periods without much concern as to safety. I was quite pleased. The girl did a great job in contributing to her impending and repeated torment. I love slave labor!

Days of Infamy...

At this time, we would like to take a moment to offer our deepest sorrows and empathy to the victims, victim's families, and the family of the assailant in Aurora, Colorado's Dark Knight Rises shooting. Our thoughts go out to our friends in the area who may know the victims or were affected by this tragedy...

The Ethics of Kink...

No, I'm not going to be so presumptuous as to lecture on all aspects or the full range of ethics within the community. I did, however, want to discuss certain things that have come more and more to my attention.


In this lifestyle we live personas, versions of ourselves that are kinky, subby, domly, etc. Even if these things are at the very core of our being and we feel that what we are really doing is stripping away the layers upon layers of societal obligation to become our true selves, what manifests is still a persona. Is there anything wrong with that? No. Am I implying that this somehow implies that people are not living a real D/s relationship? Not in the least. 


What I am saying is simply this. Manifesting the persona of our true selves does not excuse us completely from the social obligation of politeness and manners. I think we all accept that being by nature a submissive does not entitle everyone around that person to then dominate them, right? So why then does it seem that a dominant nature somehow implies that everyone around that individual is therefore inferior by nature? I am Master and Owner to my girl, and at the moment she is the only one to whom I hold those titles. I try very hard not to allow that nature to spill over onto others, in scene or out. I know that sometimes it does, but almost never by intent.


It does not make me any less masterly, if indeed that term could be applied to me in the first place, to step out of the way of someone as they pass by, to open a door for someone if they have their hands full, or let someone go before me on the stairs. Even if that person is someone else's property and clearly lower in status in a hierarchical sense, it does not make me less of a dom to be polite.


Obviously I have a high regard for manners and politeness and I feel that these have suffered within our shared lifestyle. Specifically, as many, many things have, under the pressure to conform to D/s sub-culture stereotypes. 'Oh so-and-so is not a real slave, she has limits,' or 'he's not a real Master, he hasn't attained perfect zen like personal control.' Rubbish. It is paradoxical to assume a persona, even one exemplifying our inner selves, and on the one hand ignore certain social conventions in an attempt to free ourselves while on the other hand conforming to an entirely different, and equally restrictive set of social expectations. 


Be who and what you want to be. Be the type of slave/sub/sadomasochist or Master/dom/sadist you wish. The only definition that matters is your partner's and your own. And remember, just because you may be a very dominant sort doesn't mean that being so doesn't make you any less of a jackass when you are impolite.

Fun with Friends...

As you know, we moved recently to an area where things are a bit better for us. That includes the chance to be closer to friends who share our proclivities. Last night we had two of our good friends over for a chance to play. It was more of an impromptu thing, but we all had a great time.


Our friends, I'll refer to them as M&m (who are not a couple I should specify), have been over before at our old place for an impromptu rope bondage demonstration. I had the pleasure of binding m in a couple of different harnesses on that occasion. Since then I have been looking forward to a chance to do so again. 

M&m have been over several times since we moved in, yet an opportunity hasn't presented itself, until last night. M came over first and I continued my monolog on our time at the big event this passed weekend from the night before. While discussing, I placed the pink ribbon back around the girl's neck and allowed her to lay on the floor drawing and conversing while occasionally commenting upon how cute she looked. It was delightful to watch the effect it had on her, a tremble in her breathing, her down cast eyes, and the shifting in her hips. 

Pink Ribbon of Doom!...

Well, I had intended to discuss a number of fun things we experienced this passed weekend. However, it would seem that doing so might bring us to financial ruin. Alas. I do want to say we had an awesome time!


So instead, I'll talk about our return home last night. I spent some time unpacking the heavy load of toys and implements I had brought with me. Last year we had quite the surplus of spending cash for the shops, though this year we were drastically limited due to the recent move. However we did have a little cash to spend and found few things I just couldn't live without.


While unpacking, I came across this 1.5" thick strip of pink ribbon that I have had for years but never really utilized. I stuffed it into my pocket and finished returning my toys to their home. We live quite close to a good friend or ours and I knew that he was going to come over for a brief visit to discuss the weekend. In fact, he arrived before I had completed unpacking and I allowed the girl to mooch a cigarette from him while I finished (remind me to explain the girl's restriction on smoking at some point).

Fantasy Weekend of Fun!

So last weekend was an event we were really looking forward to. Lots of kinky folks. Lots of fun. Two enormous play parties. Excellent presentations and presenters.

But i can't tell you any more than "We had a awesome time." Maybe i could tell you for lunch the first full day, we met up with two wonderful friends, and had dinner with one of our first kinky friends. Maybe i could mention that we learned a lot about ourselves, though i can't tell you how the insight came about. Maybe i could write about the fact that  Master and i played hard . . . if i didn't mention the event (and maybe i'll do that later).

Because the event requires that we don't write about it. In fact, i pulled down our posts about last year's event, because the seriousness with which they take this "don't write about it" is actually frightening. 

i kind of understand why. The privacy concerns associated with the event are of course, at the forefront of the organizers' minds. No one wants to be incidentally outed. But it makes me angry that i can't talk about what Master and i experienced, or how we played. The event was still awesome. And we'll go back every year they have it. Maybe, in time, we won't have to be afraid to share experiences like this. But today, it sucks.

Today, Master and i are lamenting the lack of air conditioning that we enjoyed all weekend. We're lamenting that the fantasy the event inspires has vanished, and real life awaits. We have, as good friends put it, "con-drop" because the convention is over. (sigh)

Hopefully we'll be able to squeeze in some awesome kinky fun at home to share with you. After all, all these bruises on me are good "starting" points for new play. (grin)

Fluid

The stagnation of our previous home has really become obvious in the almost month we've been in our new location. It's amusing, in a horrific sort of way, looking back, on how much we'd become . . . accustomed, i guess . . . to not having our needs met. But here, now, in the brief time we have been here, we've reconnected in a very deep way. i think (or at least if feels as if) we've had more sex in the last 20 some odd days than we had over the entire summer of 2011. Our relationship is more fluid, more full of life and vivacious once again.

Of course, here has its own new challenges, the balance of activity outside and inside our relationship, for example. We are much closer to people who truly share Master's interests, enabling Him to spend more time fulfilling those needs that i can't always live up to. i'm delighted, of course, but this also sometimes leaves me feeling a bit lonely. But, there have been more amazing moments of closeness, of fun, of sex, of silliness. i've been feeling more playful again, more likely to spark a moment of fun between us. The only unfortunate thing is, we no longer have a real place to store our toys, so they are still living in totes, which makes it an adventure in the dark, when i ask Master if He'd be willing to torture, tease or play with a particular toy, or if He's got a sudden craving to use a particular toy on me... Standing over the totes with the midnight light, moving the smaller totes and boxes, looking for the thing that has inevitably slid to the bottom of the 10 gallon tote that is, of course, on the bottom of the stack of toy totes.

Regardless, the massive amount of sex is revving my engine, and i am very much looking forward to our little getaway to a proverbial island of adult fun on July 13, 14 & 15. We are so excited to return to Thunder In the Mountains. (Plus, i read something about a "Puppy Pit" in addition to the Pony Track at the play party!! Hehehe!)