An undignified title...

In other words: "squee!!" 

After Master and i attended Thunder in the Mountains last July, we realized (again) just how much we missed being part of the community. When we started out, we were regular attendees of the local PEP (People Exchanging Power), and loved it. We met great people, we had a lot of fun, and we really had the space to experiment with our play. We committed ourselves to finding a way to make ourselves part of the closest local scene again, and this month, we managed to fulfill our early 2012 resolution. The timing all worked out, and though we got lost in our once familiar haunt, we found ourselves at the door.

Inside, we saw familiar faces, and though the traffic and getting lost had left a smudge on our initial moods, watching others engaging in their own scenes lifted our spirits and our excitement and we started looking for a place to play. Master and i really were looking for space to play with the Victor Tella signal whips we picked up at Thunder, and of course, some room for some serious martial arts inspired impact play. It was pretty crowded, so we weren't sure we'd find just the right spot.

It worked out that as soon as Master and i were really ready to get the ball rolling, one scene wrapped up (and was unwrapped - a little rope-pun) and Master and i experimented with the available space. Though many people comment on our pictures over on FetLife about how sexy i am, and many people tell me in person, i admit i have body-hang-ups. Master talked me through them, and pretty soon, i was happily cuffed and Master was whipping away. He started out with the flogger, and though i know it, i don't really remember it clearly. i fell into the scene fast. Nothing remains but the memory of movement, a bite of the tails of the pretty floggers, and Master's gloves. But the Dragon Tongue i do remember; it's pretty red tail biting and "cutting" into my flesh, the way it would lovingly wrap around my ribs to bite the flesh of my breasts, licked around my hips, and landed on my calves. i remember stomping my feet, sometimes turning around to look at Master as the tongue licked at whatever new target i gave Him. i was deep into the sensations of it all. Deep into the energy changing hands between Master and i. He took my pain and devoured it. i took His cruelty and lapped it up.

Even though Master and i have found that i do appreciate the sting of the whips far more than i appreciate more of a thud against me; there is one thud that i cannot get enough of... The feeling of Master using His limbs upon me as weapons. i begged Him to skip the whips, to kick me. As He is ever so kind, He agreed, and re-positioned me so there would be ample room for His intentions. i remember counting two sets of ten, but Master wasn't done with just 20. When i couldn't remember how to keep counting, i was on the verge of good tears. As much as i would have enjoyed crying for Him, i enjoyed what came next at least as much. Now that there was no counting, i was just a punching bag. There was no time to cry, and all i could do was laugh and howl with the joy of the pain Master gave me. Master kicked me, front kicks, side kicks, round kicks...and His fists were a flurry as well. Punches, slaps, and i think i felt a few well placed ridge-hands, landed upon my back, ribs and thighs. my legs crumpled under me as Master used His knowledge of pressure points against me. Left with quivering legs, kneeling upon the floor, held upright only by the cuffs, Master landed a few more blows upon me.

He brought me water (we learned from Thunder...we had it in our scene bag, along with some emergency chocolate and one of my favorite blankets), and we cleared the space for the next players. Initially, i thought i'd want to just curl up somewhere and nurse my sore legs, but once i was following Master i realized that moving felt far better, and we wandered around to watch a few other players.  A good friend, one of our fist friends from the scene, was there and had his claws out. On my already sore body, they were almost like little single jolts of electricity.

Before long, Master and i were set up again, with His jute quickly wrapping around me. There's not a lot from this part that i remember well, either, because i was really just a happy puddle of lovely neurotransmitter goop. Master asked me if i wanted to walk around, but that was pretty beyond my coordination levels, so He bound me down and ripped a couple of orgasms out of my body.

When He'd let me loose, i was pretty quick to bounce back to being frisky, and running away after He'd threatened to spray cold water all over me...

Being there was really, truly great. Fulfilling. We met people, old friends and new friends; had great scenes, connected with our inner Sadist and masochist (well - His Sadist, my masochist) in a way we haven't been able to for a while, and had a grand time indulging in our desires...

It was absolutely, spectacularly, awesome.

The sex at the hotel after the event and the next morning was pretty awesome, too.

And. i who almost never bears marks on my legs, ass or back... Have marks lingering from the event, and a lovely, lingering soreness...

We're seriously looking forward to our next chance!

(taps fingers...)

Comfortable in my skin...

Yay! The semester is over, and i am on my second full week free from everything placing demands upon my time. Well. Free from everything but Master. Despite getting off to a strange start to summer vacation, things are looking lovely. Master and i are more at home, relaxed and feeling far less stressed and short-tempered. We feel more connected. 

We did get off to a strange start, with a few odd trips that kept me from sinking immediately into my life as Master's property, well, that and we were all sick. 

But, our second week has shaped up loverly! 

Round Two

Or, Saturday Night

While this year is full of awesomeness, the schedule that Master and i have been living on, built by the things in our lives, has been extremely difficult. Master has borne the brunt of caring for the little person in our household, and because of school, i rarely get to spend time with either of my boys, and have the least amount of time to spend alone with Master (Whine and Whinge!). It's been very frustrating, for Master and for me.

i sometimes feel invisible (something that's been going around kinky blogs), though Master frequently acknowledges how difficult this year has been for both of us. i know He sees me, sees me struggle, and flounder and loose myself in all the things that need to be done. And worst of all, He cannot fix it, for there is rarely time for us to whisper our goodbyes and lust before we must go about life, and much less time to drop me into the pain, suffering and pleasure that is required to keep both of us level headed.

But this is my spring break. And my time again belongs wholly to Master. And it has been good. Friday night i consumed copious amounts of coffee to stay up for Him, and we had a rocking time (as you can read in His post). Last night required less coffee to find myself at His mercy, and it was an absolute delight. 

Defenseless

For those who haven't noticed, i did regain Master's permission to be on the internet, though i have been swamped with homework, which has put off my explanation far longer than Master intended...

In regards to Master's "Dacryphilia Vs Drama..." -- i basically got too sucked into the distractions Master permits me and failed to abide by His dictation. i put my own entertainment above His orders. Bad, bad, bad!

Delirium

Yesterday did not go at all according to any sort of plan. Master woke up later than He had wanted to. The boy-child woke up sooner than i expected him to. And so the rest of the day was kind of full of unexpectedness. Master and i puttered about, He worked on painting some of His miniatures, i thought about going up to work on my own project to be near Him, but the dishes were calling and it seemed the perfect day to make homemade chicken soup (bestest homemade soup ever, Master said). So that's what we did. It was quiet, and fun, but not at all what Master had planned for the day.

As the day wound down, Master and i began to feel tired, and worried that all opportunity would escape us. The boy-child was ridiculously excited and bouncy (his birthday is coming very soon, i think that may have some influence on the recent over-excitableness), and we were holding little hope in our hearts. Suddenly, i realized it had gone quiet. As we looked into the child's room, we saw that he had tucked himself in (dawwww! Cutest thing in the world!) and gone to sleep after all.

still here...more so, in fact

Hey, is it just me or is it cold? Oh, right, it's December. Normally there'd be snow on the ground by now, but with one little weenie dusting of snow thus far, it's easy to forget. It is cold here, though, and i will admit, i am a Colorado native who hates the cold...

Regardless, the Winter Break has begun, and i have been more subject to Master's whims than i have in quite a while. This includes, but is (definitely) not limited to, this whole business of trying anal. (Would that be considered the a.v. card?) i am admittedly, a bit grouchy about the whole business. i've never been at all interested in anal -- after all, my cunt is pretty damn close to perfect (had more than one gyno say so, anyway, and i'm rather fond of it myself), and it functions excellently during sex. But, anal is something that Master has deemed important. And so, i am doing my best to follow along with this plan of His, and trying very hard not to be snarky or angry about it, though at moments i certainly fail. Thus far, i haven't found it particularly enjoyable, remotely pleasurable, or entertaining, but Master has asked me to give it an "honest try" and so i do.

Otherwise, it has been rather nice to be able to spend so much time with Master, snuggling with Him, talking with Him, being used by Him, and in general, being near Him. It's a bit of an adjustment, as Master and the boy had their own little routine and now we're tumbling everything about trying to make sense of it as a family for the month i'll be free of school work. Not free from anything else though! (lol)

i'm sure, that as the time progresses, i'll be back to make more posts, eventually come up with something to say, and in general, be a bit more active on the blog and at FetLife (provided Master permits either), but for now, that's the short and long of it.

If i don't manage one more post before you all get your holiday plans underway... Happy holidays, and by that i mean specifically the holiday you celebrate this season. ;) :P

Thanksgiving break...

And it started the right way!

Master and i had somebody watch the little person last night so that we could get some much needed alone time, and we made the most of it.

Not only did Master get some pictures taken that He had been wanting to take or some time now, but we also got to play in the tub for the first time in our new place. Of course, there also had been some marbles accumulating from mistakes on my part, and those had to be dealt with before we could get to the sex...

i'm sure Master will come talk about His table stocks, but as with all the projects He cares about, he had these finished to perfection, smooth and perfectly cut. As Master placed me in them, He asked if my knees would be okay on the floor (recent re-injury of my bad knee makes Him a bit generous with things He might not normally offer), and i believed it would be fine, so i declined His offer of a cushion. my fuzzy, school-fried brain made me believe that i would be able to sit, rather than kneel under the table, so as He shoved it closed around me, i scrambled and realized that, no, the table was higher than i believed, and so with the awkward positioning of my legs, i was almost literally hanging in the stocks. It was an awesome experience, and rather soon, i felt my muscles twitching with exhaustion. When Master was gracious enough to release me from the stocks, i felt so warm and used, and laid on the floor for a few moments before we moved on to christen the tub with some water play.

Now, despite the tub's one downfall (it is blue), it is much larger than both tubs we had at our previous residence. Master tied my hands to my thighs, and looped the rope binding my ankles together through the ropes around my thighs as well, leaving me unable to do more than rock my shoulders up to keep my face out of the water as it rose. As we considered the limited amount of time, Master's impatience won over my stamina, and he shoved me under. Each time he pulled me up, i sputtered, annoyed at my new hair cut because it was hanging over my face, essentially "waterboarding" me while Master told me to breathe. Eventually, Master turned me over, and we tried to submerge my head while i looked at Master. Unfortunately, we'd splashed quite a bit of the water out and it didn't quite work, so Master, being the clever, quick thinker He is, decided that His underwear could prove themselves useful in waterboarding me. Regardless of what Master does, quite frequently the thing that truly "revs my engine" as they say, is control me with His strength. He can be doing the most horrible, awful thing, and if His strength is subverting me, controlling my head, my body, my very survival, i become the lustful, compliant creature He so loves.

P.S. There was caning. Not so fun.

P.P.S. There was also awesome sex. >:)

Maybe i'll get a chance to post about those later.

So. It has been a little too long between my posts. (sadface) Life is crazy, and the life we lead seems to occasionally compound its complexities.

It's highly frustrating to me, sometimes, to be so utterly dependent upon Master for so many things. For example, it's against the rules for me to have any kind of sexual release without His prior permission. For as shy as i still am about things related to sex, it makes it difficult for me to get up the gumption to ask for permission.

Combine that with the fact that there is very little time for me to do anything but the basics of survival between my homework and raising our son, and that results in 1) no time to ask, 2) no courage to ask, and 3) no time to accomplish said release if i was brave enough to obtain permission anyway.

This is not to say that Master doesn't consider my needs. He considers that -- and frequently asks me to cum on command, which i am capable of doing.

Yet.

It. Is. Not. The. Same.

Or really even satisfying. It ramps up the need i feel to be under His boot, be tormented by His hands, His mind, and find myself to be deliciously small and worthless as He fills His needs.

Which is one reason i am perpetually grateful for my Master -- because when we do get the chance, He knows exactly how to go all out. With or without the toys.

When we do get the chance, it is often hard for me to make an accurate accounting of what we did here, on this blog, because my brain is so fuzzed with delight, the animal sense of carnality, that words and congruity are beyond my own capabilities.

Whether He hurts me or is kind to me, i cannot help but be driven to that animal mind, that place where the reality of the world doesn't apply anymore. Whether He delights in my pain, delights in a moment of my (sometimes fleeting) masochism, or if His purpose is to deliver bliss, or anywhere between, or if any of those things become blurred, i lust for those moments. If His purpose is to create useless anger in me, meek subservience, despair or joy, i lust for those times, too. Those moments where i am able to be the carnal creature He has made, the moments i feel completely and utterly at home.

But the in-between times? Regardless if they are a day, or near a month, they are too long, and it makes life feel too cruel. And that is supposed to be His job.

Wake Up and Breathe:

(Warning: Breath Play. We practice Risk Aware Consentual Kink, and Master is CPR certified.)

i never sleep very well, or very long. My record for sleeping in in the last five years (that includes time before my pregnancy) is probably 8.5 hours -- my average is probably about 5.5 or 6. So even everything that came before that lovely morning in the hotel couldn't get me to "sleep in."

Waking up still bound and laying close to my Master felt absolutely wonderful though -- as if i do live a charmed life. Well...i belong to a man who knows the color and tint of my soul, who understands my drives and desires at least as well as i do, if not better...i do live a charmed life. But that morning, i really felt it.

And i moved against Him, kissing His bare shoulder, His lightly freckled skin at the base of His neck, and the beast in Him was awakened. He rolled over me, and possessed me in every way He is able. Gasping from the sorenesses all over my body, from the joy and pleasure of Him using me, the pain of new impacts.

Master paused for a moment and leaned over the edge of the bed to grab something. It crinkled. And even before i saw it, i begged, i whimpered...

But it is not my choice to stop, and it is Master's price for the occasional cigarettes He allows me to have. And all debts must be paid. The plastic goes over my head and i can feel it drive His excitement through His cock in me, and i hate it already. i hate the heat of it, my breath making the bag too warm. In just moments, before He even closes it, it is already too warm for the air to feel fresh. But that morning...that morning there was also rope to close the bag. Panic took hold of my body, and yet the rhythm of Him rocking in me, with me, kept me from doing more than clawing at His shoulder. His blood under my nails, and then air, real air, to breathe, cool, and full of the scent of us...and then the stuffy, hot, plastic...again...and His need driven ever closer to the edge.

And then we're over the edge.

A few more moments, breathing together, sticking together and listening to our hearts race before we had to think about returning to the mundane, before giving up the simple, lusted after Owner and property to the more complex roles of our life...

And it was worth it...We were refreshed.

Weekend of Refreshment:

Master and i were in desprate need of some time together. So much running about with school for both of us, His work, and of course, taking care of our little person had definitely taken its toll.

What better weekend to brave the adventures of our son's first overnight than the weekend of Master's birthday?

Thankfully, my concerns about our boy's first overnight with his grandmother were completely negated and he had a most excellent time, leaving Master and i to have our own fun in a hotel room.

While i expected to be fraught with concern for the kiddo, Master didn't give me time to do so. He immediately put me on the floor, while He sat comfortarbly at the desk/table, while we indulged in a rare treat: KFC. After slurping down energy drinks and letting our tummies settle, Master broke out our toybag. Since we don't really have the space at home, Master felt that first a heavy flogging would be a nice start.

It wasn't easy to sink into the flogging, the impacts, as it had been a long time since we'd had the opportunity to really get into some heavy play. It burned. And i wanted it to stop, but i didn't want it to end, either. i fought against the burning thud, fought to maintain the composure Master asked me to have, and at the same time, my body reacts the way it always does -- more, more, more, please, i want it, i want to hurt that way. i wanted it...

And more there was; Master eventually flipped me around, put spreader bars between my arms and legs, with the spreader bar holding my arms behind the recliner and trapping me oh-so-effectively. At His mercy, with clover clamps crushing my nipples while He whacked my thighs and breasts, clamped tits and whatever other target delighted Him with the evil white plastic spoon, smacked me in the face with His gloved hands, pinched, pulled and smacked my breasts with the same.

But more than the floggings, smackings, beatings, and clamps -- more than anything else up to that point, and maybe more than the pain and pleasure that came later -- was the talk.

Master's voice cuts through me. It just does. It always has.

He told me that He loved me, but that won't save me from His desires. It won't save me from the cruelities that dwell in His heart. He loves me, but as much as He loves me, He wants to hurt me. And i've given myself to Him, and now, now all there is for me to do is suffer through it. i chose to let Him hurt me, forever and a day.

And i made that choice, knowing what He wanted, made that choice because i want to be hurt, and more specifically, want Him to be the one to hurt me.

And that is the deepest, darkest truth in my soul. i knew what He was, and i wanted that.

Hearing that truth spill from His lips made me twitch in all sorts of tasty ways.

(Part one...There will be more -- for there was!)

Reading the Signs...

Body-language is an important facet in our lives, whether it be business dealings or romantic relations. In our world of BDSM the importance of body language greatly increases. When disciplining or just scening with my slave, her reactions tell me so much more than her conscious blather ever could. When she is screaming "NO NO NO" but her body melts into the torment I know that she needs and craves it despite her begging and pleading.

As a training tool, being able to read the physical signs of a submissive or slave can be crucial. How they react to bondage, beatings, labor, etc provides invaluable insight into the submissive as a person and provides something of a road map for further development and training. These indicators also bring to light the slave's limits which could be, and in my opinion need to be, expressed and expanded through further training.

Taking the slave passed the point of what they think they can do or manage is one of the great pleasures of owning a slave. Doing so, though, means that the Dominant needs to be able to read the slave's reactions to know where the line is. Where pushing up to or just passed the line can be an absolutely incredible experience for both the Dominant and submissive, shoving well passed the line can be extremely detrimental or even damaging to the slave and the relationship.

As an aspect of control, pushing the slave is very important; enforcing the realization of their helplessness as property. If the slave has the ability to end a scene or stop the Dominant then the slave has some control over not just the situation, but the relationship as well. Thus, O/p and M/s relationships generally, but not in all cases, do away with the institution of safewords. Of course, the absence of safewords only exaggerates the importance of being able to accurately read the slave's body-language and reactions.

This kind of familiarity takes some time to develop, which is why I feel it is unwise to do away with safewords too soon in a relationship and why I feel there are such strong feelings in some people regarding their importance. However, experienced players within the community can usually push a submissive they just met right to the very edge of their limits, due largely to the wealth of experience and familiarity with reading these signs in general.

Knowing how to read the body-language and reactions of a slave is one of the more important aspects of owning a slave and bringing them to their full potential of servitude. More importantly, it is vital in truly knowing the slave, inside and out...

Those Twenty

Master last blogged about a punishment that i earned myself. Twenty cane strokes, delivered in order earned, for the type of each of infraction. The hardest part about the punishment was the realization, before He even told me what the punishment would be, was that i had really earned it. It was a case of some of the worst behavior in the last few years.

Master told me that i didn't have to blog about the why of the punishment, but i feel that it is important to how i received the punishment, so i am going to go ahead and share at least the basics of it.

In the simplest terms, i rose above the level of property, of slave. i claimed property, i repeatedly told Master what He should be doing, not in the form of a recommendation, but as an order. i let my exhaustion, stress and frustrations run away with me and take me above my station. Master has been extraordinarily understanding and helpful throughout all the stress and lack of sleep over the past few weeks, but even as i was breaking every rule He had already bent for me, i realized it. And even though i realized it, i kept pushing until i had fractured every aspect of the rules.

i had an evening to ponder the actions, knowing that a punishment would be coming (but not knowing what it would be) and that i earned exactly everything it would be. i was so frustrated, because i know that i can abide by the rules we've agreed on to define our relationship and i was feeling that i wasn't living up to the values i want in our relationship. While i was alone, i considered all of that, and even briefly, considered begging to be released because i wasn't sure i could find a way to come back to be at peace with myself as His property. As i considered that, however, i realized that if i did ask, i would be denying my responsibility, the responsibility to behave that i had already agreed to, already chose. And there would never, ever be a way back to wearing His collar.

When Master and i talked, after i had realized that i must own my mistakes that evening, and after He told me how the twenty cane strokes would break down, i didn't think i could make it through. Fear consumed me until the time and opportunity came.

When it did, Master hobbled me with the wonderfully heavy leather hobble, and the strokes came down. Because i'd earned them, and i knew it, i did my best to take them with as much composure and grace as i could. i swear, i thought that the skin split with every stroke. i thought that i really would forget how to breathe in that searing pain.

And that is how i remember it. Hobbled and bound to the bed, trying to have that elusive grace Master always asks me to demonstrate, terrified that the skin on my ass and thighs was going to split and that i'd forget how to breathe. i barely remember hearing His voice during, though i am sure He talked to me the whole time. i was so trapped in the moment, in the pain, that nothing else from those moments is as clear.

It wasn't just the punishment that brought me back to center, to satisfaction with the choice i made to be His slave... But it burned the realization that i needed to own the responsibility of my behavior, that the choice i made to be property, slave, was one of the best choices i could have made for myself. i find happiness inside this relationship, and i want it as much as i need it, exactly as it is. And that brief consideration of begging for release made me realize that i really have everything i need and most of what i want. Though it was unfortunate, going so far off track allowed me to realize that, and the punishment and extra thinking brought me back to center, to be satisfied with what i have with Master. And reminded me that if i felt something was missing, all i have to do is ask.

It is easier to ask before then to beg forgiveness and correction later.

winter...break!

Recently, Master talked about how hard it is for Him to share me with anything. How He works to be patient when the moment requires Him to be so. Which is something i admire in Him. And fear, too. There is something funny about the expression on a dominant's face when they are waiting...even patiently.

While i'm still not a hundred percent sure that being back in college is the right thing for us (i was deliriously happy when i didn't have to go anywhere), but it's what we're doing now. And Master has been amazing. Helping me find the time to get the work done and yanking me away from it often enough that i don't loose sight of the fact that He always comes first. (Oh, yes, we could go round and round about our kiddo being first, but i think i've done a good job balancing our son's needs with Master's wants.)

The hardest part about not being a stay at home type anymore is that i so badly just want to focus on nothing for a while, but Master tempers that, too. If i'm not getting something accomplished and i have due dates coming up, He's standing there prodding me to work. If i'm stressing about due dates and He realizes i'm winding myself up for no reason, He yanks me away from it.

Yes, we find some time for each other between His work, my college and our precocious child. Not as much as we'd like, but someday, that will change. He finds just enough time to remind me that everything i do is something He allows me to do, and that i'm not doing it for myself...but for Him.

Thankfully, my semester ends this Friday, leaving me over a month of time to catch up on chores, and spend ridiculous amounts of time sleeping in or not sleeping at all. And by not sleeping at all, i mean my Master probably won't be either.

WhooHoo!

Snowflakes

On FetLife, it seems that there have been lots of people shooting down everyone else. It's a fact, people are generally intolerant of others whenever they are not forced together because of outside pressure.

That in itself doesn't bother me. What bothers me are new members of the lifestyle, the kink, who are just entering adulthood (the age of consent), who act as if they know everything there is to know, and shoot down people who have been living the lifestyle for years.

i entered my relationship with my Master before i was 18. When i was 18, i consented to a D/s dynamic, which led to my consent of an M/s dynamic. But i never presumed that i knew everything. i knew i wanted to know more, i knew how we were working our relationship, but i didn't make the presumption that everybody did it one way. i was fascinated by the differences, and at times, envious of them. But what Master and i do works for us, we've always adjusted it to work for us.

We're all different, and folks who are new to the lifestyle would do well to remember that there isn't a relationship (kink or vanilla) anywhere that is exactly the same as any other.

Vanishing point...

We didn't really disappear. Though there were days i wondered if we really existed at all. We didn't go anywhere, we didn't abandon our dynamic ─ in fact, we didn't do much of anything. And that kind of apathy tends to consume everything when you aren't looking.

Master and i just kind of did our thing. Moving along through our lives with neither of us putting forward the effort to make our days anything but ordinary. And just being ordinary, even though Master was still my Owner, even though i still was His property, the apathy kind of consumed our efforts there too. He stopped actively manipulating me and i stopped trying to be good. Oh, the rules were in place, still obeyed, but we stopped attempting to move beyond the surface of our relationship and dynamic.

And so, the month of May almost slipped away without becoming memorable.

Master and i both recognized the apathy, in part probably because i was getting, well, feisty and also because Master took the time to watch some of His favorite porn (Device Bondage by Kink!). So, while i was pushing the boundaries, picking at Master to see how much i could really get away with, He was realizing that we hadn't done much of anything and that i was trying to get away with murder.

And time was made, and the untreated sisal rope was brought out of the closet.

i don't know how many people use sisal rope (because every website i've ever run across says "Don't use sisal rope") but for the masochistic streak in me, it is awesome, though i also loathe the little prickles.

Once Master had the sisal rope wrapped around my chest, i remembered why sisal rope is so evil. Everytime you shift, every little movement, a new bit of skin gets prickled with a different set of prickles. So, i lay there, helpless, wrapped in evil-prickly rope, remembering i don't have a choice, and that whatever i do to pick on Master (no matter how apathetic we might be at the moment) has serious rammifications.

i had an afternoon of prickles to remind me exactly how owned i am, and how little i can change in my relationship with Master.

Evidince that there's no permanant vanishing point between Master and i.

Fortunate

Bouncing around the blogsphere lately, i've come to see that regardless of the difficulties that Master and i have faced in the last year ─ we're pretty fortunate.

Yes, i've had some issues settling in and allowing my role to be defined by the rules that Master and i have agreed to. Yes, i've had some health issues that have mucked up our interactions. Yes, Master has had His own frustrations regarding the way that things have been working.

But.

We've been together as a couple for 11 years, we're coming up on ten years as a D/s transitioned to M/s relationship, and this year will be our ninth year of marriage.

And i still see our commitment to each other growing stronger, and no matter how hard the redefinition of our roles and rules has been and might be, both of us need that M/s interaction, we both crave it, it's something essensial to our personal idenities. We aren't done growing, we aren't done changing, but we move and grow together to accept the changes we see in each other.

In all the reading i have done on the internet, of others personal BDSM relationships, i have seen several relationships fall apart because the growth of each individual isn't accepted, roles and rules are not redefined, and while they may still love each other, they cannot reconcile the growth with the style of relationship that they shared.

While i understand that not all relationships are salvageable, i am recognizing my own fortune, and expressing my own grattitude that Master and i are willing to work together, to grow together and build upon our dynamic and the rules we have created.

And no matter what else happens, i am grateful for what i share with Master.

Obey, Serve & Please

The last few days have been hectic, frazzling and frustrating. i haven't behaved as well as i should ─ repeatedly. Master has been excruciatingly patient as i quibble, argue and resist before coming to what i should have done the first time: obey.

Master has given me a very simple tenant to live by from the start of our journey into our Dominant/submissive merged to Master/slave relationship, and that is to obey, to serve and to please.

That boils down to even deeper simplicity: obey. If i obey, i am serving, and that is pleasing. i know this, i've lived with this simple, innocent "rule" for over eight years. i know it by heart, i understand its meaning and i see it work. i see the delight on His face when i obey without hesitation, i see Him pleased by my willingness to serve and obey. Yet, so often, when i allow myself to become worried by a situation, frazzled or stressed by the world around us, i fail to simply follow that simple, lovely rule.

i have failed to obey.

Master did not, of course, let me get away with the behavior for long. But what hurts, more than the punishment for the misbehavior, is knowing that i couldn't keep one simple word in the fore of my thoughts, that i couldn't follow the simplest part of belonging to my Master ─ i was not obedient. That excruciating patience He does not offer anyone else, merged with the expression of hurt and disappointment in me ─ it all hurts that much more as i am so dissapointed in myself for failing to mind that one word...

i want to do better. i know i can follow that simple, standing order. i can obey. i want to obey. And when i obey, i will serve Him and it will please Him. It is up to me to do better, to obey without question, without complaint. It is up to me to not let the stresses and frustrations of life keep me from trusting Master. And all of that is possible because it comes down to the definition of obey.

"To follow the commands or guidance of; to conform to or comply with; to behave obediently."

That is possible ─ even for me.

Abiding realities

There's been BDSM bloggers (peruse our blogroll for "Under His Hand" and "The Journey") lately pondering whether or not the Master/slave relationships are merely an illusion. So many of us view our status as the slave or the Master as a permanent and unbreakable aspect of our relationships. So we strive to build lasting M/s relationships. But sometimes, even those lasting relationships face the loss of the M/s dynamic.

Sure, there are slaves being uncollared all the time, Masters walking away from their slaves, slaves walking away from their Masters, out to find someone more compatable. Rarely we see or hear about the M/s relationships that have become something more complex, where niether party wants to walk away from the other, but something keeps them from continuing in a M/s relationship.

And that leaves two people, whispering in the dark, trying to work out how to relate to each other.

my heart goes out to those who experience this... It terrifies me, too, as several times, Master and i have been trecherously close to throwing out the M/s aspects of our relationship permanently. Yet, what we have together is a long established friendship and abiding love. Neither of us can entertain the thought of parting ways, and yet, we know learning to relate to each other in a vanilla envrionment could very well be the scariest thing that we have faced in our lives. In thinking about this subject, my favorite Oscar Wilde quote comes to mind: "The only way to get rid of a temptation is to yield to it. Resist it, and your soul grows sick with longing for the things it has forbidden to itself."

All this talk comes down to the fact that each and every one of us, regardless of the length of time we have been involved in a Master and slave (or take your pick of terms) relationship, will always be individuals, doing our best to live together in harmony and sometimes, that just isn't possible. "Real life" and, by that, i mean outside forces, will muck up our best laid plans, and force us to places we never thought we'd go. Sometimes, a step back is something we have to do.

Once, four years into being my Master's girl and three years into being His wife, i essentially ran away from Him. i left our home, i left the city we lived in and the reach of His collar. At that point, i had never truly tasted independance. i had never lived on my own, outside of a home with family or with my Master. Six months later, He left the same to be where i was, because i'd learned something. i loved Him more than independance, i loved being with Him, being part of Him and my soul grew sick with longing without Him and without belonging to Him. That "step back" made me realize that the things i thought were important weren't, and what really mattered...

This post has been a bit of a ramble, but my point is, Master and slave relationships are kinky fun but once you throw deep, soul-connected, time-tested love into the mix it becomes a different creature entirely. Not only has the kink enticed us but the love has suffused every aspect of our roles bringing us to a point where they can't be used as a weapon for manipulation nor something that we throw away without a thought for the rest of our lives. The "playtime" M/s is over once love weaves its way throughout the dynamic and whether we mean it to or not, i think a part of us will always identify as the role we assumed inside that M/s relationship.

One final thought: may those special relationships infused with love, when "real life" requires them to step away from the M/s dynamic, abide with love.