Complicated/Coexisting

So. School is over. But, somehow or another things aren't as calm and centered as i hoped. i haven't spent a day caged or chained, at His mercy while He takes care of the "real world" confining me to being His object, something unimportant in His life.

And while i'm grateful for His understanding, His patience and acceptance of my wants and needs, i am also hoping that the day that He yanks me out of reality will happen soon.

An interesting thing has come about in my slavery. i think i'm a better functioning person, i have more self-value. i'm a better partner. i'm a better parent. But i'm also none of those things - i am not a person, i am property, an object. In ten years, the conflict that i perceived has come to coexist. That's not exactly right -- there isn't a conflict, i just thought there would be.

Sure, sometimes i don't feel balanced. Master is perceptive of that, and while not generally happy that i can't always quash those feelings and just be the object He owns, He gives me the time i need. But those fragments of me, they aren't fragments anymore, they are components of the whole, components of my identity, and i need all of them to be satisfied with all of it.

i am a better person than i was when Master took me as His. But i know He didn't make me better for my sake, it wasn't out of some noble purpose. Master made me better because it's what He wants from me. Ideally, i'd spend far more time at His mercy and hurting then we are capable of forcing into the few hours we have, but He wanted me to have greater self-value and yet no self-value.

So, soon, i hope, we can find a bit of time for me to sink all the way to the worthless part of me, the part that delights in the isolation, pain, the object, the thoughtless property...

i'm ready for it.....

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.

past vs. present

Time. Slips away too fast. And there's precious little of it to be had.

The other night, Master and i had the good fortune to enjoy a bit of time together and Master did a really fantastic job with some bondage. It was lovely, the ropes holding me tight, keeping my arms folded behind my back... Inescapable. As difficult as it is for me to get into the headspace to enjoy being bound by rope, it's important that we do so. When we don't have the chance to play with rope, i tend to loose track of where i am, and how helpless i really am, how helpless i want to be.

The bondage was delicious, and Master was sorry that He hadn't thought to grab His camera.

The sad thing was when we were finished, there wasn't really time for us to spend together, snuggly in our roles, reassured by the fantastic bondage, sadism, masochism and sex. We had to go right back to regular life.

As i think about it now, i realize that even though Master and i have had BDSM incorporated into our lives for a third of our lives and all of our time together, i have always had difficulty handling jumping back into the "normal." Yes, our roles are part of our normal, but i want that connected closeness of Master and slave, i want that to last for at least a few moments before the "mundane" things claim their share of time. Post-scene, i want to just bask together in the enjoyment of it, the bliss of numbed limbs and stinging parts, the agony of over-stimulation, the delight of the carnal beings within us.

The day after, i was off. i was short, i was disinclined to do exactly as He asked me to do. Every step was a fight. i didn't want to disappoint Him, cause Him frustration. But i kept doing it. i'd apologize immediately, recognizing the potential trouble i was building up. When He told me that "i don't mean to cause you frustration" was beginning to loose its meaning, i completely went off the deep end. i snapped, i yelled, i threw dishes around in the sink. And argued more. All things He's told me i need to control better.

i blamed being tired, having a sore throat. Blamed a bout of insomnia. Being angry about being sick. He knew that wasn't all of it. He knew it and i didn't. Several hours after the outburst, i recognized that it was a selfish little desire that felt neglected rearing its' ugly head.

i want that closeness. i want Him to be all mine for just a few moments, to feel His arms around what belongs to Him every second of every day.

But this is another thing i am going to have to learn to control better, because that want isn't going to be satisfied every time. And it can't get in the way of the present moment.

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.

Of piles and the past...

In one of my sometimes, occasional, rare, and completely unpredictable desires to become more organized, i found one of my old handwritten journals from years ago, which promptly caused the cessation of the attempt to cleanse some of my clutter. Of course i had to stop working on my piles and piles of papers, old bills, old newspapers (hey, i love the smell of newsprint and ink, not to mention criticizing the heck out of the typical graphic designer) and other random bits of my collection to read said journal. It's in my nature to be nosy, and i'm often the victim of my own curiosity. (Is that a sad thing?)

Regardless. This old, handwritten journal was an interesting look back on what my submission meant to me at the time, about what i thought was important to our M/s and D/s dynamics, about who i was and where i thought we were going. In reading those old entries (from 2003, by the by) i realized a few things about where i've come from and what i believe.

As i skimmed the old, black journal, and my burbly little-girl-like handwriting in brightly coloured (and sometimes glittered) inks, i realized that at the time i had no idea where our relationship was going to take us, i was very selfish about what i received from the relationship at the time, and lacked confidence in who i was and my importance to Master. The beliefs inherent in the writings suggested that i was extraordinarily fragile, afraid of my shadow and that what i wanted from the relationship was as important as what Master needed.

Looking at that, surrounded by my piles (and evidence of my inclination to save everything) i'm pleased to say that i see some positive change in myself. Not only has my handwriting matured (though my taste for brightly coloured inks has not) but my nature as my Master's submissive has changed as well.

i know Master has hopes for how our relationship matures, and that there are bloggers out there that i read who have the kind of 24/7 M/s relationships that Master would like us to grow into. Not that we'll be exactly like them, (i'm not quite as masochistic as Kaya and CarrieAnn are, for example) but further from the place where i question and doubt what He expects. i see progress there, i really do ─ i'm getting better about keeping doubts and questions out of His ears ─ and i see how far i have yet to go.

i see the difference in myself when i look at His needs, and ignore my nagging "wants", because i am beginning to see those "wants" of mine as superflous, more like decorations on a cake (not even quite as important as icing). i am feeling more confident in my place with Him, and know that i do hold value to Him, despite the fact that i am nothing more than His property, an object.

It was a fascinating experience, to see the differences between then and now so clearly. Now, someday, i kind of hope to find the very first journal. Which i hope is still somewhere among the stuff Master and i have hauled around for the last decade. But it will have to wait for another one of those rare days when the desire to be rid of the pack-rat piles strikes.