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Uh-oh becomes A-ha Part 2

February 5th, 2010 2 comments

The time between the epiphany of Part 1 and now was rough and off-balance for me. i struggled with figuring out what i was feeling, so that i could tell him without sounding like some deranged window-licker off its meds. (Heh, me 5 years ago)

i was trying to express very internal emotions of betrayal, isolation, stagnation and frustration. i wanted to scream and cry and throw myself at His feet, demanding that He just read my mind (don’t they learn that at the super secret european dom training manor?) and fix me.  Preferably while i was sleeping, so that i didn’t have to feel a thing. Yeah, that’s gonna happen. So instead i retreated inside, trying to sort out these half-buried, explosive thoughts, while treading the surface on the outside, going through the motions of slavery while my mind was out to lunch. And, true to His form, He stepped back and waited it out. Which drives me absolutely batshit crazy, because it feels as though He’s retreating from me, giving up on me. Damnit, if He wants the body, He’s saddled with the mind! The more i pressed Him to react, to assert His will as i wanted it the more He stood firm and refused to engage me on it. So i dug my heels in deeper and started to buck the reins. And He never let me slip them, but He didn’t tighten them, either.

Finally salvation came to me via kaya’s blogpost “Absolute Power” . It gave me a frame of expression. See, the thing i had been grappling with, unable to fully voice but feeling the cutting edge all too well, was that i was slowly being ground away. He was getting all too familiar with me going that extra mile to please Him, and i was slowly eroding my sanity to hold shit together. His absolute power was cozying up to the corruption line. i knew that if things weren’t adjusted, i would be back on meds to help me keep chemically sane. And i’m wondering how He couldn’t see that coming. Or maybe why He didn’t care.

He had gleefully abandoned the few household chores He had.  i had shouldered them without complaint,  just another grey hair in my ponytail, another wrinkle on my tired face. Hey, i mean, what did He get a slave for? Sure as shit wasn’t to keep doing the catbox Himself, right? What’s another chore on my list when i’m a stay at home slave with three kids under the age of 5? Hell, He’s God in this house, why should He deign to lift a finger? That’s what underlings are for!!

So i finally came to Him and said (paraphrased) “i’m going crazy trying to do everything under this load. If You won’t change anything, i will need meds. i understand You da Boss, but i can only do so much more before i give out. At this moment, i am serving because i have no choice, not because i love to.”

He considered everything, explained to me why somethings couldn’t change, but did arrange to change a few other things so that i could have a little time to myself without the kids.  He’s going to step up on the jobs He had dumped on me.

Now that i’ve come clean, now that i’ve lanced that poisonous abscess of pain,  grief and hopelessness,  i’m feeling more like my old self. i’m not fully comfortable anymore. i’ve seen the edge of the abyss. i listened to the pebbles bounce down the walls. But now i know, that He will come for me when i fall. He will be patient with me when i need to lick my wounds and patch my tattered sanity back together.

And maybe, now that He’s seen what His absolute power can destructively do, He’ll be a bit wiser in its application. i can only hope so.

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Oh, god. Did I really just say that out loud?

February 5th, 2010 3 comments

So Sunday was horrible.  Well, the beginning, anyway.  I was disobedient, and Master said I didn’t appreciate Him, so I got indignant and disrespectful.  Defensive.

I don’t remember what we were talking about.  But we didn’t agree.  I was right, damn it! And so was He.

And suddenly, I shouted, “I’m not going to bow down and change my mind just because you don’t agree with me!”

~blink~

Time stood still and I held my breath.  Did I really just say that out loud? Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck….

Ever had one of these moments? Tell us about it.

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Last night, in a word? Phenomenal.

February 5th, 2010 2 comments

Click to enlarge.

I keep playing it back over and over in my head.  But I’m missing huge pieces.  The only thing I remember is the moment we had.

Our moment.  It was amazing.  And I find myself at a loss for words when trying to describe it.

I know how hokey and sappy that sounds.  Believe me, I was shocked to see myself in this position, as well.  And I learned more about myself in a few minutes than I’ve known my whole life.

It started as it always does.  Master ordered me to find toys to play with.  Things to put in my pussy.  And it wasn’t long before I told Him that I wasn’t really interested in playing with my pussy.  That I wanted Him to beat me.  To mark me like He had a few weeks ago.

I expected a few cane strokes, harder than I can usually stand, on my breasts.  Nothing major.  Quick and painful.  So when He, instead, made me kneel in front of Him on the floor and hold them up for Him, and rained down a number of painful blows across the tops and the nipples, I was caught completely off guard.  I stayed mostly in place for Him, flinching and whimpering but not really trying to get away.

He told me to kiss His legs.  And it wasn’t long before I was pulling His socks off, on my own, and crouching down to kiss His feet.  That’s when He began beating my ass and back.  And when I switched to His other foot, He whipped the entire length of the right side of my back for… god, it seemed like forever.

I buck.  I fight.  I try to crawl away.  But with the slightest twitch of my body, Master would say, “Don’t move.”  And I would be still.

When He finished with the first set on the right side of my back, I immediately began kissing and licking His foot again.  I clung to His leg as if it were the only thing tethering me to this world.  And I worshiped the man who was beating me.  And then He started again.

I don’t know how many separate times Master went over that side of my back.  There don’t appear to be any bruises, but the brush of my sweater over the welts is rather painful.

I don’t know if He stopped because He was done or because I was.  But when He stopped, I pressed the side of my face in the crook between His foot and His ankle and just trembled, there, on the floor, holding on for dear life.

“Heel.”

And I looked up at Him timidly, not sure of what He wanted from me.  I kneeled up and put my hands on His knees, my eyes searching His for approval.  And when He reached for me, I dove into His arms, wrapped both of mine around Him, buried my head in His chest and just sobbed.  This huge barrage of emotion overwhelmed me.  This feeling of relief and pride in myself and happiness and love.

He held me so gently.  He rocked me back and forth, and kissed my head and shoulders and lips.  He ran His hands gently over the welts, soothing them.  And He just held me.  Until I stopped crying.  Until I started talking again.  And then for awhile after that.

Master told me I was very good.  That He was extremely proud of me.  That I tried harder, last night, to be still and be good and just take what He wanted to give me than I have in ages.  And I was so happy.

Master told me He loved me.  And He showed me with how tenderly He brought me back to the real world.  And for once, He didn’t have to bring me back to Him.  I never left Him.  All there was, was Him.

Thank you, Master.  I love you more than words can say.

<3
~pig whore

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