Home > rayne > I heard it through the grapevine…

I heard it through the grapevine…

November 26th, 2009

maxine-assholeWord on the street is that Master’s an asshole.

He certainly can be an asshole when He’s so inclined.  I won’t pretend He can’t.  But if I’m to be honest, I must admit that the sheer extent of my cunttery far surpasses any of the assholeish things He does.  By a long shot.  Everyone has bad days.

Usually, I wouldn’t care.  He certainly doesn’t care.  He laughs about it every time I bring it up.

But it bothers me.  Because it seems people have been walking away from our blog, and the things I tweet about, with the wrong impression of Him, our relationship and how He treats me.

I don’t know who said the things I heard.  I don’t really care who said them.  I pity them for not yet learning the life lesson, “Never judge a book by its cover.”

How He treats me, His willing, adoring slave, has nothing to do with who He is as a person.

When I expressed my interest in this lifestyle to Him, He sent me on one serious expedition for any and all information I could find on the subject.  On the internet, and in bookstores, and in libraries.  He bought and downloaded free versions of educational books, BDSM erotica  and an interesting mix of light and extreme BDSM porn.

He introduced me to women who were owned by married men and were kept expressly as backdoor girls.  Their owners only call them or visit them to use and abuse them and then throw them to the side like so much garbage until the next time.  The next time that could be weeks or months (or, in one case, years) away.

These women never heard a kind word from their owners.  Their conversations consisted strictly of the most depraved sexual acts their owners’ sadistic minds could come up with.  And I was intrigued.

Then, after showing me the worst of the worst, He introduced me to women who were cherished by their owners.  Who spent every day being doted on just as much as they doted on their owners.  Who laughed and loved and played and were always exalted to the highest place in their owners’ lives.  And I was nauseated.

Through a lot of trial and error, we’ve found that it works best for us somewhere in between.  Too much of either, and one of us is left feeling lost or unwanted. 

I did the slashy-speak thing for a little while.  You’ve seen it, I’m sure.  W/we and O/our and Y/you.  People still do it sometimes.  But it takes so much effort and looks retarded.  So I stopped.  Master didn’t really care if I capitalized words referring to other dominants anyway.  Matter of fact, He preferred I didn’t.

For a while, I never capitalized anything that referred to me.  All pronouns and names began with a lowercase letter regardless of what was grammatically correct.  It started as an internet thing, and then mutated into a strange sort of respect.  A way to show in my writing that I  was lower than Him.

For a while, I spoke strictly in third person.  It was a part of a short stint of Gorean training.  And it served a purpose.  It kept me in the head space of owned property.  I didn’t have a name.  I was “she” or “it”.  When He wanted my attention, I was “cunt” or “bitch”.

Now, of my own volition, I continue to cap pronouns and His name.  When I became semi-serious about my writing and took the guest writing position at Eden Cafe, He gave me permission to stop.  In case a serious employer came by, and wanted to offer me a job, but was put off by it.  I chose to continue capping pronouns and His name out of respect.

I do have the utmost respect for my owner.

I have days that I question my choices.  Never seriously.  I just know what I could have been had I chosen a different path.  And I know that I will never be some of those things so long as I remain a slave.   But I look at my life with Master and I know it’s worth the sacrifice.  Life’s too short to give up a love this amazing to be someone I’m not.  And I am not cut out for the stuffy, up tight corporate world I would have ended up in once I got my head on straight had I not met Him.

The things I’ve heard make me sad.

People have said I’d be awesome if it weren’t for my relationship with Him.  They say no one should have to live the way I do.  They say I’m too sweet to have to live in oppression.  That no man should ever take ownership of a woman.

Here’s the thing.  I am alive today because of Master.  I am fully functional.  I am no longer in and out of mental hospitals or addiction treatment centers.  I’m off meds and I’m out of therapy.  And, while I still have panic attacks and bouts of depression, they are fewer and farther between and much, much more manageable.  And He helps me through them.

He treats me like a human being, most of the time, even though He owns me.  And even when I’m being the biggest cunt possible, He makes sure I know that He loves me and cares for me and wants to be with me always.  I can’t say the same for myself.

But He is a sadist.  And I am a masochist.  And that means that sometimes I have to endure Him being mean to me if we both want our needs met.

But make no mistake.  I love it.  It turns me on more than anything in this world.  I’ve dreamed of being treated this way ever since I was a little girl.  Even before the abuse started.  To be honest, I think it’s part of why I sought out the people I did.  Put myself in the situations I always found myself in.

When Master and I met, I told Him I was not into being controlled.  I told Him if He ever hit me, He better hold on cause it was gonna be a bumpy ride.  And I told Him about the fist fights I used to have with my ex.  I told Master about the stitches dickhead had to get and how I embarrassed him in front of his friends.

I made it absolutely clear that He was not going to control me without my permission.

And then I handed Him the reins.

I handed Him the reins.

I chose this life.

I get that you don’t understand it.  I get that you’d never choose it for yourself.  But how can you even think to deny me my happiness? You don’t even know me.  All you know is words on a screen.

I am happy with my station in life.  I am loved and I am cherished and I am owned and I have wanted that for myself for as long as I can remember.

You don’t have to understand it.  Sometimes I don’t even understand it.  But it makes me happy.  Isn’t that what’s important?

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  1. November 26th, 2009 at 17:17 | #1

    You talk about how much of a cunt you are, but I haven’t seen that from you at all. Maybe since I don’t have one on one convos with you, but in other public outlets you’re friendly and quite helpful, as well as funny. 🙂 I really like this post and I hope your gossipers get over it soon.

  2. Taja
    November 26th, 2009 at 17:34 | #2

    Rayne, I don’t know you or your Master in real life, and everything I do know about your life together has come from this blog and what you post on eden cafe and Fet.

    The way I see it, he is NOT an asshole… he is the perfect man for you. The way you talk about him speaks volumes of your feelings for him and his for you.

    He is exactly what you need. That doesn’t make him an asshole at all!

  3. Taja
    November 26th, 2009 at 17:35 | #3

    I meant to add…

    ignore those who are bad mouthing him – they are probably the same kind of safety police you encounter who tell slaves they are being abused and could leave any time. Or those who say that you are totally irresponsible if you don’t have a safeword or don’t follow SSC…

  4. November 26th, 2009 at 17:37 | #4

    @Rockin’ With a Cock in They say you hurt the ones you love the most. In my case, it’s true. I think it’s a twisted sort of test. If you don’t run from the cunt, we’ll survive, I guess.

    Thanks 🙂

  5. November 26th, 2009 at 17:55 | #5

    @Taja Thanks, Taja. I know in the grand scheme of things their opinion doesn’t matter. It just makes me feel bad to think people dislike Master because I’ve… I don’t know. Misrepresented Him, I guess.

  6. November 26th, 2009 at 21:57 | #6

    Phooey! Seriously, anyone who really listens to what you read knows you’re deliriously happy. Tell the rest of the world to go fuck themselves.

  7. Joji
    November 26th, 2009 at 22:13 | #7

    The top was me!

  8. November 26th, 2009 at 23:00 | #8

    As a fellow submissive/slave (I’m still unsure how I define myself, as I mentioned on your Eden Cafe post), I’ll admit that sometimes I read your blog and think, “I could never have that kind of relationship.” Sometimes I read things and wonder if you’re really happy, or you’re just trying to convince yourself (and us) that you’re happy. I know that your version of M/s is not the same as mine and Master’s. BUT. That’s why I keep reading. I like to hear about different kinds of relationships. It opens my mind and makes me think. And reinforces that our model is the right one for us, just like yours and M’s is the right one for you.

    At the end of the day, if you’re happy with your relationship and your arrangement, that’s all that matters. And that’s all I need to hear to accept what you have. Just because it isn’t right for me doesn’t mean it isn’t right for you. Keep on keepin’ on. Haters gon’ hate, no matter what. <3

  9. November 27th, 2009 at 17:39 | #9

    @Anonymous Thanks, Joji 🙂

    @Britni TheVadgeWig I’m not always happy. I’d be lying if I said I was. I’m human and sometimes the unfairness of things really pisses me the fuck off.

    But the good far outweighs the bad. And no one and nothing is perfect in this world.

    I’ll take the little bit of bad in this relationship over the bullshit I’ve dealt with in others any day.

  10. November 27th, 2009 at 18:49 | #10

    My secret evil plan to takeover the world by pissing people off I’ve never met is finally starting to come to fruition! Muahahaha!

  11. November 28th, 2009 at 22:23 | #11

    “And then I handed Him the reins.

    I handed Him the reins.”

    I really would love to have people understand this with J and I. I have to watch my wording around family because they think he is overly controlling and I am being abused in some way. What people don’t get is that I gave him those rights. I let him control me. People sometimes miss the part where the control we allow them to have over our lives is our gift to them. In return I get what I want…my needs fulfilled and his care. It is a dynamic and a choice. Good for you for living your life your way.

  12. November 29th, 2009 at 04:53 | #12

    Rayne,

    Let me answer your last quaestion first. Yes, as a matter of fact, that is what’s important.

    I haven’t been reading you very long, and don’t have the time these days to do what I did with Kaya and read your entire archives to try to understand you. But then again, I don’t have to. I’m better informed these days, and I have a better ability to grasp what I’m seeing from blogs and other types of posts. I’ll tell you what I see when I read your blog.

    I see a woman who’s managed to find something special, something so special that she’s terrified at times that it’s all a dream and she’s going to wake up and find herself back where she came from; a place where no one cares about anyone else and you do what you have to to get through the day without being killed or killing yourself.

    The fact that this special thing includes being beaten with whips, paddles and such, of being tortured by a sadist for his pleasure, of being a literal slave to the whims of another human being is unimportant in my view. My God, Rayne, you’re happy these days. Your sense of fulfillment pours off my monitor every time you post, whether it’s here or over on Fetlife. I can feel it even when you complain or are having a bad day and being cuntish, as you put it.

    I recall you writing somewhere about those old days, how you managed to get along with the lowlifes on the street because you were so inoffensive to them. You knew then that you couldn’t be that cunt, because it would get you killed, potentially. Yet, with Melen, you feel safe enough to be honest about who you are. That, in and of itself, proves to me that you’re where you should be, living the life you’ve both chosen, and should be, living.

    To paraphrase, Melen may well be an ass, but he’s your ass. Don’t let him get away.

    Dave

  13. November 30th, 2009 at 09:31 | #13

    @Alley I am ashamed to admit that I totally didn’t know who the hell you were at first. I’m like “Who’s J? And Alley? Do I know this person?” Then “JsCuriousAlley” flashed across my addled brain and I remembered. ~ducks~

    It seems that’s the biggest point of contention. These people either don’t understand or don’t believe that we made this choice. They think we were somehow coerced into it. That we’re too stupid, or blinded by love, or something, to see it.

    It’s annoying.

    @dweaver999 You kidding? He ain’t goin’ nowhere. Just let ‘im try! ~puts up her dukes and tries to look all scary~

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