Goodbye, "no"

There's been a lot of stress flying around in the air here lately. Master and i have been going round and round about our worth, mostly how both of us feel like we're lacking in growth.

And that's a load, right there. Master and i have grown by leaps and bounds. We do things now that terrified me before, and though there are some aspects where there has been some atrophy, we both have matured, we've tried to grow together and we've done our best to embrace the whole of ourselves.

Ever since Master took me as His own, i have wanted to be the "perfect" slave. It's this ideal i have in my head, how i do everything He asks of me perfectly, never stopping what He wants, able to find sub-space-zen in even the most difficult tasks. But, shouldn't that come naturally for a submissive? Well...if i was submissive, maybe. But i'm not, i'm willful, opinionated and determined, though i crave the structure of being His slave. (i've talked about why i submit here before, and you can read that post here.)

It doesn't come naturally, i have a heck of a time setting aside the things i think and want when He asks me to do something. Sometimes, i accomplish it with grace, with little hesitation. But sometimes, it comes from the opposite end of the spectrum... As in, it doesn't happen as He expects it to, or at all.

The word "no" isn't one that supposed to fall from my lips when it comes to something He has asked of me. And yet, it has. Several times.

Each time, both of us retreat, wounded by my refusal to submit. It hurts Him because a million times over, this is what i have told Him that i want, yet, i refused His order. It hurts me because i don't want Him to be hurt and because in those moments, i am the one who is refusing to abide by the life that i need. It's not the same as cutting, but the amount of self-damage that is done when i say "no" is comparable.

Eventually, we'll talk it out, sort out all our hurt feelings, and find our way back to where we were. And that usually means, that despite the underlying issues, i have a penance that must be paid before both of us can move beyond the incident cleanly.

But there's still that idea in my head that i can be perfect, just waiting for a chance to rear its ugly head and help me derail everything that Master and i have worked for.

And it's time for the perfect monster to be destroyed. Time for me to really work on communicating, and remembering that the word "no" does more damage then asking for a moment to talk can ever do. Remembering that every moment that i submit, i am becoming what He wants me to be ─ and He never asked for perfect.

Expectations and Frustrations

Time has not been my friend lately. There's been very little time for Master and i, and what there has been has had the unfortunate burden of a slave's expectations.

Master's last day off was a great example...of a lot of things. i desperately wanted a snuggle with my beloved Master as we settled in to watch Iron Man for the first time ever (missed it in the theatre, unfortunately), but Master wanted to snuggle with a slave who was trussed in rope. Despite the fact that Master was being kind and using the lovely nylon satin ropes instead of the evil Sisal rope, i could not move beyond the hurt that i created by building expectations of the rare times we have together.

After all this time with Master, i should remember that my expectations should be couched as requests...and frankly, never become expectations in the first place. After a lengthy discussion, regarding expectations, who should have them, what i should do with them, and being reminded over and over again that topping from the bottom is an absolutely prohibited behavior, we settled in to watch the movie.

As time schooched by, i became more and more tired. Late evenings are not my friend, despite the fact i sometimes battle with insomnia. Because of Master's new work schedule (which i hate, hate and hate) midnight is his early afternoon, and while His slave wilted with exhaustion when the movie ended, He was still needing something from me.

Something that i have been struggling with often, of late, is what to do with the anger and frustration that well up within me when Master asks something of me that raises the selfish creature that dwells within me. And i struggled, at that moment. i was exhausted, tired beyond patience, and frustrated that on those rare days that He has the opportunity to be home with me, i become more exhausted than the other days.

So, there we are, Master needing either a warm cunt or a talented mouth, and a pissy slave who is frustrated and angry.

i wanted to throw something. i wanted to break something. i wanted to lash out and say something cruel. i wanted to curl up in a ball and ignore the world for a peaceful eight hours. The first three are flatly, absolutely poor behavior. The last is delusional.

i swallowed my frustrations, swallowed my anger, and gave Master the rarity of a blowjob. He swears that i hate them, and is saddened that i don't volunteer them more often. Why did i choose to give Master a blowjob? This is what He wants to know. This is why He asked me to write about this.

(For the record, i don't hate blowjobs. It's very intimate and a joy to bring someone to ecstasy by exploiting the generous helping of nerve endings that make up our sexes. Far more intimate ─ and in some ways more "touching" than sex. i don't volunteer to give Master more of these treats because He has a fantastically awesome girth and lovely length, and with my smallish jaw, well...it seems to me akin to attempting to ram a half-inch screw through a three-quarter inch cap nut.)

But back to the question at hand, why did i give Master a blowjob instead of offering Him a warm cunt? i simply did not trust my mouth to not be busy. Every question He asked me during my display of oral talents fueled my anger, driving me to work harder at sending Him into ecstasy, into the toe curling bliss a blowjob often takes Him. Because He'd ask less questions if He was busy breathing, gasping and wiggling on the sheets.

Afterwords ─ it was ironically easier to truly accept and swallow my issues. He knows as well as i do the frustrations of our lives. He understands exhaustion, for different reasons, maybe, but He knows it well. Sometimes the frustrations and anger that stems from the world outside our door get to Him, too. The best we can do is be who we are.

In that moment (when I was thinking my Master should try drinking pineapple juice), it was easier to simply accept that i had to trust Master and let go of what i expect and of the frustrations and anger that build in me because of life. In that moment, Master and slave were at peace with the world, anger and frustrations melted away in the afterglow.

Snipping

Recently, i have been petulant. More so when Master attempts to ground me, to remind me that regardless of the changes that have caused such upheaval in our lives that i still belong to Him.

That almost sounds like an excuse, as i look back over that paragraph. It's not meant to. And more and more, i am realizing that i must be cautious when i speak. Not only mindful of my words, but how i say them, the intent with which i say them and the reason for saying them.

In the ever growing relationship that Master and i have, things have to change to allow for growth. Recently, Master deemed that we were far enough along, that He knows me well enough, to banish excuses from my lips and safe words from our scenes. He expects me to continue to communicate with Him, regarding my feelings, my hurts, and how i feel during a scene, but excuses and safe words are gone.

But back to the petulance that has colored my behavior. The other night, Master gave me a task to complete after He headed off for work, which included orgasms. In every instance, without fail, i am to thank Him for those gifts. But when i finished the task, the only words i included were "As ordered, Master". As i looked at those words on the tiny screen of my phone, the thought bumbled through my head that i should add that i was grateful. i can't say for sure how long i looked at that message before i hit send, but i pondered. And sent the text as it was.

A petulant slave at her best. Er. Worst.

Therein lies my problem. i am aware that i need to be especially mindful of what i say and how it is said, especially to Master, but when i remind myself that my behavior and speech has been lacking in one very important factor ─ respect ─ that peevishness raises its ugly head and i make no progress, no change.

What aggravates me, regarding this petulance that has found its way into me, woven itself through the fabric of who i am, is that i see it, and allow it to send me further into behaviors that i know Master will find displeasing. Further, i am saddened that while i do see progress from where i was in 2003, this disrespectful behavior is dragging me backwards in my progression as my Master's slave.

The truth is, life is full of changes. We are all forced into situations that we find unpleasant, from time to time. And there are positive changes too, like the growth of the relationship that i have with Master, the personal growth He has helped me achieve and the continuing healing of my heart and psyche. Changes should not cause petulant behavior, much less the disrespectful tone that has obviously led me into a heap of trouble.

More respect, less petulance. Starting...now.

Pay the whore...

An interesting time has come upon us. I have, for nearly the breadth of my ownership over my lovely little slave, considered her to be a whore for private use. Time and time again I have brought this out in her, delighting in her begging to be fucked and to taste my cum. I see it in her desperate looks and grinding hips. I hear it in the panting breaths and her dog like whimpering.


However, the time has come for my little whore to be paid. Or more appropriately, to have her earn her keep. She is no longer the little office pet, the strong willed and opinionated woman who returns home to heel at my feet and wear my collar. Now she is the little house slave, whiling away the long hours until my unfortunately lengthy return. Now she finds herself restricted to an allowance; and one that, for the most part, she must earn. I have never before taken the pleasure of stuffing a handful of bills into her well used mouth, and I have to ask myself why I have waited this long. Her cock sucking skills have definitely improved over the last year and I find that tying her performance to her pay has greatly helped her desire to take my cock.


For now, the privilege of being fucked and used like the little slut she is, is not conditional upon her pay. I would hate to pay her for something that she can't get enough of as I would go broke in no time. Also, I feel that that particular privilege should remain entirely at my discretion, it helps keep my little cunt in line.


However, the things that she seems to struggle with the most are perfect places to impose this particular condition. My slave wants to be paid, then she has to offer her ass to the harshest paddle, or lick my cum from the tiled floor, or piss in a cup or bowl and wait to see whether or not I make her drink, or offer her asshole for use. Hmmmmm, my dulcet little slut slave may never look at payday the same way again. ;) In the mean time, I will continue to make my whore "work hard for the money":D...

Submitting or Force?

Master struggles with me, somewhat, because in a lot of cases, despite my wanting to be good and pleasing, He often has to resort to force. His force of will, His physical force, when really, i should be (and want to be), pliable in His hands.

i love games like "chase" when i fight tooth and nail only to wind up exactly where He intended me to be. But subspace for me becomes deeper, warmer and more satisfying when i help Him by being where He intended me to be or doing what He intended for me to do. So why, when these are the things i crave, do i so often pick and nag at Him until He growls in frustration and reminds me that i do have safe words that i can use, but otherwise, He's going to stop listening?

i love rope bondage, yet every time He asks me to bring Him rope, i offer an audible sigh akin to frustration? i adore being drawn down into subspace and falling into the pain He gives me, yet i wriggle, make faces and complain when the evil white spoon is brought out. i adore the moments He cuddles me, but when He offers to let me lay in His lap i become a grumbling girl.

Why?

Is it that i have expectations of the moments we have to steal together? After nearly ten years shouldn't His pet know that her expectations are second to His?

Yes and a resounding Yes.

This is something i still need to work on - first of all, i don't verbalize my own wants, wishes and expectations often, so how can He know? Secondly, in all other things He comes first, yet in those stolen moments, i need to re-prioritize and remember that if He has plans, i need to accept them.

After all, i trust Him more than i trust myself, and i know that if i lay down those gripes, the bad habit of attempting to top from the bottom (which is really ironic, because i loathe being in charge, i feel awkward, out of place and miserable when i have taken the lead) and trust in His plans the places we go together become a wonderful, fulfilling experience for both of us.

In the long run, Master is the one in charge of the helm and navigation - i am simply looking out for rocks in the path - and He knows best where He would like to go.