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Archive for May, 2008

A slave’s apology

May 30th, 2008 Comments off

Ever have one of those days where you just can’t seem to communicate well? Where everything you say comes out the exact opposite of how you meant it? Or the person you say it to completely misunderstands? How do you handle those things?

I tend to snap back. Even when I realize that it was me who misspoke or wasn’t careful with how I worded things. And then things spiral out of control because we’re both defensive. Because they (they usually being Master) think I said something I didn’t and are upset and I’m not understanding why they’re upset, thinking I said something perfectly harmless, and getting upset myself.

Last night I said exactly what He thought I said. I just didn’t mean it they way He thought I meant it. And I should have known better. He wasn’t in the mood and He’d been dealing with a lot of things at work (the usual lack of appreciation corporate employees have to deal with) that really made the comment poor taste and out of line.

I guess the reason it’s still heavy on my mind is because last night I grudgingly conceded. While I knew He was right about me being out of line (And really, even if, in the grand scheme of things, He wasn’t, He is Master and I am slave so He is right by default.), I didn’t want to admit it. Because, out of context, my joke was harmless. But in context, joking or not, it was horribly mean. And I really didn’t mean it that way. I just didn’t think.

I guess this is my way of apologizing. A real apology instead of the grudging one I gave last night. And as much as I hate to admit it, I guess I do need to reevaluate the jokes I make and the times I choose to make them. When there is constantly a problem with something you say or do regardless of the approach you take, the problem is obviously yours and not other people’s. Then it’s time to decide whether you care or not and, if you care, how to go about changing it. When the person who has the problem with your behavior is your owner, there’s no decision to make.

I’m sorry, Master. It won’t happen again.

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Camping

May 27th, 2008 1 comment

Yes, I realize there’s no Thursday blog. There’s also no Saturday blog. I’ll give you three guesses where we were. The first two don’t count.

And it was awesome. I’d forgotten just how much I love camping. Okay, that’s not entirely true. But I think I’d blocked it out so I wouldn’t be so disappointed when we didn’t have the time or money to go.

Where we go is a first come, first serve nature preserve in the Adirondacks on DEC land. There are no showers, no toilets, and most definitely no cell or web service (unless you drive most of the way out or climb to the top of a mountain). It’s breathtakingly beautiful and amazingly relaxing… even with all the work it took to get everything together. We had a smashing time.

Master took lots of pictures and I’m hoping to get Him to allow me to post some to the site despite His insistence that most of them suck. None of the kink variety. We decided to do things right this time. In other words, while we bought some wood, we foraged for most of it (and still managed to leave a small pile for the people who camp there next) and split it ourselves (sort of) and by night fall we were exhausted. During the day the area is entirely too full of people (of the small variety especially) to attempt anything more than a quick slap or pinch here and there. Especially considering we returned once to a woman taking her children “hiking” in our campsite.

Years ago, after learning of Master’s love for waterfalls, I took Him to the top of the biggest one in this preserve. It was covered with ice but still spilling over and He took a few pictures there. He also stepped through the ice (the rock wasn’t visible) and scared the bejesus out of me. I thought for sure He was going over. Then I freaked out getting Him back to the car because I was afraid He’d get hypothermia or frostbite or something. We managed to find the falls again with His brother and sister-in-law (and got lost in the dark) but we were crunched for time and couldn’t go down to the bottom for Him to get the full effect.  Read more…

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Life’s Easier when…

May 21st, 2008 Comments off

Things are a little crazy around here. We’re in the process of getting the camping trip put together and both freaking out because the place we’re going is a first come first serve nature preserve and only currently has five accessible sites. The DEC apparently didn’t think it was important to repair the road to the rest of the sites even though they, themselves, say Memorial Day weekend is one of the busiest camping weekends of the year.

Soooo… we’re working out how to get me out of work by six tomorrow night so we can make the two hour drive, pitch tents, and get back home with enough time for me to sleep till five and go back to work till two. And praying there’s a site open. If we get one, we’ll most definitely just be relaxing the first night.

So my mind is on that. So I’ll leave you with a thought… sort of.

A while back we were in one of those big box stores and checking out. The kids there are becoming increasingly friendly while checking people out. It’s bizarre. And this one said to me, “Life’s so much easier when you just go with it.”

He was being a smart ass about the rest of the conversation (which was about women getting their hands on their men’s wallets)(because Master always makes me carry His wallet with the excuse that it makes His pants fall down – but really it’s just because for as long as we’ve been together I’ve been a pack horse of sorts… even before I was His property!) but that one comment really stuck with me. There’s so much truth in it.

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Do you need it?

May 15th, 2008 Comments off

I was going to take the idea kaya dropped for me. I really was. And then I decided that writing a rant about stupid people would probably just get me into trouble. Especially since the only point of the rant would be to talk about the fact that they are stupid.

Instead, I’ll just say it’s ridiculously ignorant to say “I just behave. I don’t need punishment.” Everyone needs correcting once in a while. Even if it’s little shit. Everyone makes mistakes. The most even tempered person steps out of line a time or two. And maybe you don’t get whipped when you do it or have to write lines or stand in the corner. But there is punishment. Whether you see it, and recognize it for what it is, or not.

It’s in his voice. In his eyes when he looks at you. In the difference in how he acts toward you. It’s the things he usually gives you but has said no since your transgression. It’s the way his smile disappears. And how instead of meeting you at the door with a hug and kiss when you return home, he stays where he is and waits for you to come to him. The refusal of a hug or kiss. The lack of hands caressing your body as he passes. The missing tugs on your hair and tweaking of nipples. Or the tugs and tweaks are harder and more malicious than normal.

It’s in the air. The thick, sad, disappointed feeling that seems to follow him like a cloud. The way the light seems to dim when you’re in the room together. The way your stomach knots up every time he passes… not in a good way.

All of these things, though? I’d take the cane over these things any day. If I could just get the cane and none of the other stuff that comes along with His disappointment, I’d gracefully bend over every single time I screwed up without so much as a peep. These things are the worst.

People react differently to things. Some people need forty lashes with an evil blue stick after driving themselves crazy during a week or more of waiting for it to put their mind back where it belongs. Some people just need an evil stare. Some people need to be strung up by their wrists and beaten with every wicked instrument their owner has in their arsenal until they’re in hysterics and begging for it to stop.

And some masters need these things to feel like they’ve sufficiently punished their slaves.

My relationship isn’t about what you need, just as I don’t expect yours to be about what I need. But I certainly don’t need someone acting like they’re better than me because what keeps them in line isn’t as severe as what keeps me in line. None of us does.

And because none of us, BDSM or vanilla, Christian or Buddhist (Or any other religion… I’m neither of those so if I’m being discriminatory by just picking those to mention, I’m discriminating against my own religion as well.), is equipped to know the “correct” way to live, how can you know for certain that we’re not supposed to be stepping out of line all the time? Testing boundaries at all costs? Learning who we are and who our S.O.s are and who everyone around us is through experimentation and pushing buttons and stomping toes?

I’m strong-willed and I question authority. Even authority I’ve asked to have. It’s tiring, I’m sure. It drives me crazy sometimes so I know it’s got to piss Him off like I wouldn’t believe. But it’s who I am. And while He will, I’m sure, tame it to some degree (Just look at how far I’ve come so far!), it might always be at least a small part of who I am. And I often need severe punishment to get me and my mindset back to where we belong. Even if it’s not usually the punishment but the way He acts toward me when I’m in need of punishment that actually sets me straight.

Does that make me better or worse than the ones who claim they don’t need punishment because they behave with out it? I don’t know. I’m also not entirely sure I care. What I do know, though, is that without it I’d be lost. It is what it is because it is. There’s a name for that, I think.

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Rambling

May 13th, 2008 Comments off

I’m running out of time to get shit done and I’m about to be severely flamed on the forum I just responded to for the first time in months and yet I’m still… topicless. And I tried! Hard! Even going so far as to reading blogs I’ve never ventured to before hoping for a tiny nibbling bite that I could dissect and throw up for the wonderment of the crowd. ::cues crickets::

I think I’m going crazy.

It’s been about two weeks since I’ve been beaten and He’s threatened every day. When He does this, I know it’s going to be bad. Two weeks of this pent up sadism is never good for anyone. Especially the toy one takes it out on. But who am I kidding? Bad, for me, is always good.

Today I asked for access to His store of photos of me. He says there aren’t many good ones. I asked to see them anyway. I’m hoping to add to the small collection we’ve built up. Since His sadistic energy is so often pent up for weeks the camera isn’t even a thought these days. It stays neatly wrapped up in its padded backpack for sometimes months at a time. And I’m almost always fully clothed when it does come out. Not that I mind. I hate being in front of a camera. I’m more comfortable behind. Which isn’t saying much with how much I shake there as well.

Every time this happens I consider hiding the cane and the paddle. I tell myself, “He never gets passed the knotty cat.” and then, “But there was that one time…” and then, “Okay the crop. Hide that too.” Finally, “If He could read my mind He’d probably whip my ass a lot more than He does.”

A lot more.

Sometimes I wish He would.

Society says that makes me weird.

I know I’m weird ::laughs::

I watched Memoirs of a Geisha for the first time last night. The culture is so beautiful. People would say it’s awful because it objectifies women. And maybe they’re right. But the women are so graceful and feminine. And they go to such great lengths to be found pleasing. And most of them are exquisitely happy doing it. How could that be a bad thing?

The service part is so hot. I guess as much as I protest (You should hear me sometimes!), I really do like the service part of slavery. Even the parts I claim to hate. And is it wrong that I, for a moment, wished it was me taking the beating the girl got? God damn that would hurt.

I dove into learning all about Geisha as soon as I was finished watching the movie. It’s such an interesting and beautiful part of Japanese culture. It’s such a shame that it’s mostly died out.

We might be going camping on Memorial Day weekend. That should be fun. Hopefully the site we like will be open. We’ll see I guess. Maybe I’ll have some interesting pictures for you after that! Ooo… that’s an idea!

In any case, Master has the whole five days off as well. So maybe either way we’ll have new pics.

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Job and Kids vs. Enslavement

May 9th, 2008 Comments off

I think I’ve talked about this before. I’m not very good at articulating what I’m thinking in a way that makes people say, “Oh! You’re right!” when it comes to this subject. But it’s a touchy subject. For everyone. Because there aren’t many adults in this world surviving without kids or a job.

I hear it all the time. From seasoned dom/mes and slaves and newbies alike. You can’t truly be enslaved if you have a job or kids. And really, as much as I love the people saying it (well… some of them!), it’s utter horse shit. The trick is in the method applied.

I’ve heard all the arguments. The dom/me can’t control the job therefore he/she can’t control the slave while she’s at the job. When the slave goes to work she’s no longer operating under her owner’s jurisdiction. There are times that the slave will have to go directly against her owner’s orders/rules in order to keep the job so the owner can’t possibly be in total control. There’s no TPE here.

I don’t really get the kids thing. Maybe that’s because when the kids are here, I’m in charge of making sure they’re fed, bathed, well-behaved and clean up after themselves. The only thing Master really does is make sure J’s insulin and such is taken care of the way it’s supposed to be. And that’s only because J’s mostly self-sufficient now so it’s almost pointless to teach me anything but how to handle his emergency pen (and what’s too low or too high, naturally, but J knows all that himself). And I’m required to continue to behave just as I would if they weren’t here, minus being naked all the time (obviously). Actually, I’m required to behave better than I would if they weren’t here.

I’m not slave to my job when I’m at work (though they seem to think I am). Master still retains total control. Everyone at work knows that if they want me to do something that I don’t usually do (stay an extra hour, come in on my day off, etc.) the answer will be, “I have to talk to my husband. I’ll let you know.” They also know that if my husband ever says, “Quit.” I’ll be out the door lickety-split. They know that everything regarding my life depends on Him. I don’t know if they all know why. I don’t really care if they all know why. Maybe they think we’re truly a partnership-marriage. Maybe they think He’s an over-bearing ass hole. Maybe they think I’m just such an airhead that I can’t make decisions on my own. I think I’ve managed to convince most of them, in the spirit of keeping our personal life personal, that it’s because I’m a work-a-holic and if I don’t let Him control when I work I’ll work till I drop. It’s almost true! Was true? Before they completely fucked me over.  Read more…

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