So after my explosive outrage yesterday, I really got nothing. I wanted to make this huge prank entry but I can’t even think of anything for that. So… April Fool’s! I got nothing. Or something. One of these days I’ll learn to save the good stuff for blog days. Or start saying to Master “I’ve got a really good entry I want to write about but tomorrow’s blog day. Can I post it today and have it count for tomorrow?” I’m pretty sure He’ll say no though :/

So there’s this really great gal I’ve been chatting with the past couple of days (You know who you are 😛 ) and she’s really, really new at this whole BDSM thing. I feel like everything that comes out of my mouth will discourage her. That’s scary. Being a veteran BDSMer and talking to newbies. How on Earth are you honest with them about the ups and downs without making them want to stomp off saying “No WAY am I doing that!”?

So… I answer her questions as truthfully as I can. Yes, there are things I miss being able to do. No, I don’t regret it. Of course I get in trouble still. I get mad sometimes. I get sad sometimes. I wish I could change Master sometimes. Not all of Him. Just little bits and pieces. At least until I realize that even changing the little bits and pieces would change who He is, how I view Him, our relationship, me… and I don’t want that. At all.

I get so frustrated I could spit. I scream and yell. I stubbornly take up position with my legs planted firmly shoulder width apart, my hip cocked (Dane Cook is so right about that one) and my arms crossed as if that alone could get me my way. I glare. I roll my eyes.

There are the times I sit back and silently accept what’s taking place even though I have a million things I want to say… do… Whether I like it or not. Whether it was something I wanted or not. Because that’s what I’m supposed to do.

And then there are the times where everything just clicks. He gives me orders I don’t like and I follow them with a smile on my face because I’m pleasing Him and He shows He’s proud of me. Or He does something that makes me so incredibly happy I feel like my chest is going to explode. Or He says something that makes me feel so special, even though I’m a slave, that the happy tears just won’t stop.

Those last? Even when they’re few and far between, they far outweigh the bad parts. The parts that make me want to throw up my arms and say “Forget it!”? They’re more than worth the good stuff.

Master’ll say, when He reads this, “But it’s not about you, slave. It’s not about pleasing you. It’s about me.” And that’s true, even though sometimes I wish that, just for a little while, it was about pleasing me. * grin * Who doesn’t? But no new slave (submissive, play partner, what have you) wants to hear that they’ll never enjoy it. That it’s always going to be all about their dominant and they’ll never get anything out of it. If I had thought that in the beginning, I’d have told Him He was out His mind if He thought I was ever going to be anything more than somewhat submissive in the bedroom and if He couldn’t deal with that, He knew where the door was. But it’s not true. There’s tons of fun to be had for all in a functional, happy BDSM relationship. Even though the main focus isn’t the slave’s happiness or pleasure.

Would I suggest this life for everyone? No. Not in a million years. So many of the raging feminists would end up slitting their own throats or the throats of their owners and it would be one giant bloodbath. Not a pretty picture. But I think everyone who has even the tiniest inkling of interest should try it. Just once and for a specified amount of time. Like a day… a week… but no longer than a month unless they find they love it.

If we’re to be honest, just like with racism, the biggest problem people have with this type of lifestyle is fear born of ignorance. The vanilla world doesn’t know what’s going on in our hidden world so they’re scared of it. Scared of what it could mean to their vanilla sensibilities. They generally only see the extremes in the media and not the more loving side of sadomasochism and assume the horrors are all we’re about. Us submissives and masochists are all brainwashed by the big, scary domly types and that’s the only way they manage to keep us. And in turn, we’re scared of them. Scared of what they could do to our ability to enjoy our life choices.