Master and I went on our…well…it’s practically a religious experience for us going to a kinky convention, so…Master and I went to a sacred place last weekend. It was, as it always is, enlightening, refreshing…and I came away with thoughts that might help me not only battle my negative headspaces, but help both of us continue to bring our roles into all of the rules we live by. A long while ago, we actually started using a daily chore list. I am responsible for doing the thing and marking it off (or writing why it isn’t marked off). Master is responsible for checking my list and acknowledging the done things and talking with me about how or when I can get the not-done-things done. Who would have thought that I would be excited about chores? But I actually often am. I’m wiggly and waggly when I cross things off the list, and when he looks at the list and is pleased/surprised/happy that I actually managed to fulfill these goals, it makes it even better.
So now…now we’re in the process of deciding how to bring small rituals that reinforce our roles into the other things we do. We’re working on making our connections stronger, more stable, more able to withstand the stressful weeks when adulting is just too damn hard.
We also had the chance to meet wonderful people and Master got some serious play on. I don’t know when he actually slept. Or if he slept?
And one more thing. One more epically beautiful thing.
Master and I play hard. We do. But he also calls me a toy snob. Because I’d rather that he use his fists and his feet. Some toys are great, and some I can love sometimes. But practically any time Master uses his fists, his ridgehands, his kicks…I melt. I can last. I brace myself against the flurry of blows, relying on my own martial training to tense my muscles to protect the organs and tissues from harm.
Those flurries of blows, though…they blossom pain in me. And I feel like they explode, and when the pain recedes back into the source, I feel purified. Over and over again, I explode, return, explode, return, and I am more myself after every explosion, I feel as if it is a sacred experience, the blossom of pain bringing me back into my truest version of myself. I feel able to face the challenges of every day. I feel ready to be creative and make progress with my many projects. I am ready. I am pure. When there’s a toy that we’re using for that burst of pain, it isn’t the same explosion. I don’t recede back into myself with the pain. So if I’m already feeling weak and unlike myself, a toy (a crop, a cane…) is going to leave me feeling weaker than when we started…So I need to be strong, be the truest version before we pull out the toys.
I am learning how I need help picking up my pieces and being myself.
It was sacred.
