How does it work?

Looking for topics this morning, i went to my “Drafts” and found this ~ my first piece of a post, from 2010.  i said:

Discerning Dom  wrote a fascinating post about power and control.  He explores the paradox – does the dominant actually have the power?  The submissive may give up power, but if they consent to give it up, don’t they still retain it? 

And of course they do. we still have some power, at the least, there is always a way out – even without a safe word, if you really want out you can get out.  {If you can’t, it may not be kink, it may be an abusive relationship.}

Brooke does a wonderful post on anal sex that totally captures the desire to give oneself to please someone else – Him.  She’s not a masochist, it’s not about wanting to hurt, but she’s more than willing to experience pain if it pleases Him.    In fact, she wants him to hurt her, so that she knows that she’s owned, so that he can see that she’s willing to suffer for him. 

And there’s the paradox.  If she wants him to hurt her, then is He in control, is He doing what He wants, or does the submissive have the power?

That’s where i stopped then.  At the time, it was a more pressing question for me than it is now, and it’s sandwiched in with drafts entitled “Am i a Masochist?” and “What about Pain?”

When i was in my first marriage, with M who was not a Dom, i used to have this fantasy of “giving myself” to him completely, belonging to him completely.  Not an unusual fantasy for a young submissive woman.  But in my fantasy, he could hurt me, but didn’t want to.

In real life, with him, any time i approached sharing that fantasy, he quickly wanted to hurt me in ways that were too extreme for where i was at that time.  If we’d been in the lifestyle, and he’d been a Dom, he would have recognized that it was a firm soft limit for me, and could have overcome it.

Instead, his insistence and demands would freak me out and hurt my feelings and i’d withdraw.

Back then, with no knowledge of real life kink, i would think ~ and sometimes say ~ “i want you to be able to hurt me, and to choose not to.”   Honestly though, i meant, hurt me in ways that turn me on, and choose not to harm me.  i wanted the sensual aspects, but in a safe context.

It was unrealistic, and probably completely confusing for him.  This was a man who refused to spank me because it “didn’t seem right” to him, but who raped me any time i dared say i didn’t want sex.   And this post isn’t about blaming him for not being a Dominant.  But it’s such a sharp contrast to my relationship with my Sir.

Sir will never harm me, so i can give Him the power to do whatever He wants.  Yes, even evil nipple stretchers and pussy paddles.  i know that i’m safe with Him.

But ultimately, i still have the power to retract that.  What if {God forbid} He got a brain tumor and could no longer distinguish between what was safe and what wasn’t?  i don’t think i’d be serving Him well by letting Him harm me, and i think i’d have some responsibility to protect Him from that too.

i don’t think that’s going to happen though, or anything like that.  i think Sir and i will keep growing into our dynamic, defining it as we go along.  

But what do youall think?  Who has the power?  Is it something you think about?  What about pain, what role does it play?  Please discuss.

In My Own Head

On Facebook today, i posted this quote:

“Where love rules, there is no will to power, and where power predominates, love is lacking. The one is the shadow of the other.”
― C.G. Jung

Only after i’d posted it did i realize how odd a quote it is for someone who’s into TTWD.  How do i believe that quote and want a power exchange relationship at the same time?  

It makes no sense.

But if it’s true that i believe both, then it does make sense and is worth looking at.  It unfolds quickly ~

Jung says that power is “the shadow” of love.  In his beliefs, everything has a “shadow,” a dark underbelly, its opposite.  When we ignore the shadow side of something, we’re at risk of having it take over.

For example – “mother love” is a big Jungian concept.  Warm, nurturing, embracing, all good, right?  

The shadow side is “mother love” that devours its young, that doesn’t allow them to separate, to become their own individual selves.  If you only know about the positive side of a mother’s love, and don’t recognize the presence of the shadow, then you won’t recognize when it’s influencing you, either as a mother or as a son or daughter.

Like an object and its shadow, they are connected permanently.  They’re not two different things, the shadow isn’t something to get rid of, together they create a whole.

Most often, in the mundane world, people don’t want to see ‘the shadow” side of things.  Don’t want to talk about it.

In TTWD, we acknowledge  the shadow.   We explore it.  We embrace it.  

And by doing those things, we begin to get some understanding of the thing we’re looking at.  Jung also says:

“Wholeness is not achieved by cutting off a portion of one’s being, but by integration of the contraries.”

 At the heart of BDSM is the integration of the contraries ~ pain and pleasure, slavery and freedom, power and love.  Opposites, and different sides of the same coin.  We take them out, turn them this way and that, play with them, examine them, revel in them.

No wonder TTWD have such an appeal, hold so much fascination for us.  

***************************************

On a whole different note, {maybe} i watched some videos of spanking last night.  Well, just short clips, not like a whole video.  It amazes me sometimes how much i can get turned on by so little.

Like my own little fantasies…

********************************************

“Come here,” He says.  

Somber.  i know i’ve done something wrong.

i stand in front of Him, eyes downcast.

“Did you make the appointment today for your annual check-up at the doctor?”

My heart races ~ omg, no.  No, i didn’t, and He clearly reminded me to this morning.  Damn.  Why didn’t i do it?

The silence hangs in the air a moment too long, and “I didn’t think so,” He says.

“Bend over the arm of the couch,” He says.  “Take off your jeans first.”

The air is cool on my legs, they feel exposed, but so does my ass, even though my panties are still on.

“Push that ass out,” He says.  “You know you have this coming.  I specifically told you to make the appointment today.  Right?”

“Yes, Sir,” i say, my voice slightly muffled since i’m bent over.

“Ok.”

And He walks away.  i’m left waiting, lost in remorse, not just because i’m about to get spanked, but ~

i had asked for help.  i had told Him i’d been having trouble with procrastinating, just simple things that didn’t take that long to do.

i’d made a list of 5 or 6 things that i’d been putting off.  Making my annual doctor’s appointment was just one of the things on the list, but it was the first He’d picked.

“That’s a priority,” He’d said.

WHY didn’t i do it?  

Still bent over the arm of the couch, the more i think about it, the worse i feel.  The very first day, and i’ve already failed.  i shouldn’t have asked Him.  Now i’ve just let Him down, let us both down.  He won’t even want to help anymore.

i hear Him walk back into the room, He sets something down on the table.  

He is behind me.  

His hand grasps my panties, yanks them down so my ass is exposed.

“Open your legs,” He says.  “Wider.”

And He walks away.

i wait, even more exposed and vulnerable.  i don’t need to be told to think about what i’ve done.  i can’t think about anything else.

When He comes back, i sense Him behind me more than hear Him.  

“You know why you’re being punished?” He says.

“Yes, Sir.  i was supposed to make my doctor’s appointment, and i didn’t.”

“You were supposed to do the most important thing on the list of things you’ve been neglecting,” He says.  “That’s not acceptable.  I’m disappointed in you.”

My heart sinks, i want to cry.  He goes on ~

“I’m going to give you 5 with the riding crop for punishment,”

i think, o, that’s not too bad ~

“And 5 more to help you remember to do it tomorrow,” which is worse.   “You may count out loud.”

“Yes, Sir,” i say.

i hear Him tapping the crop against His leg, i’m braced.

Then it whooshes through the air, and i manage to hold still and not jerk away anticipating it, but after it lands, O!  Omg, it hurts so bad… and i almost forget, but “ONE!” i say, and then, “Thank you, Sir,”

You know, i do appreciate it.  i’m glad that He cares enough to take the time to ~~ “TWO!  Thank you, Sir” ~~ to discipline me.  Even though i may feel less glad when He gets to 10.

“THREE!  Thank you, Sir.”  My ass is burning.  The third one landed crossways over the first two.  Omg.   Can i take ~ how many more left? 

“FOUR!  Thank you, Sir.”

Tomorrow, i’ll make that damn doctor’s appointment.   For sure.

  

Fantasies of Extreme Control

Discerning Dom wrote about it lately, and Sin followed up on it – the fantasy of extreme control.  Having every waking moment controlled by Him ~ what you eat, wear, think, and do, all dictated, all monitored.

Sigh…

i don’t know why that sounds so lovely, but it does.  Is it some throw back ~ a wish to return to infancy or early childhood?  i don’t know, i don’t think so though, maybe JM, the amazing analyst, could answer that question.

It doesn’t matter ~ it doesn’t feel like a childhood connection, it’s too deeply sexual, too deeply arousing for that to be a comfortable idea.  

In my extreme fantasies, i’m used sexually almost all the time, at least i’m always available, always ready to be taken.

Yeah, see, just writing that turns me on.  

The fantasies of The Major were extreme.  i stopped while they were still mostly physical, mostly controlling my mind through controlling my body.

If i’m made to sit on the floor while He sits on a chair, i will think differently and  feel differently than if i’m allowed to use furniture.  If i’m not allowed to wear clothes, not allowed to feed myself, i will think and feel differently than if i’m allowed those privileges.

And just writing that turns me on.  Funny, isn’t it?

The Major was moving toward more direct mental control ~ the goal was for Him to help me focus my attention and energy where they need to be.  Laughing… he was probably going to limit how much time i spent checking to see if there were any new blog posts up.

i remember this couple talking at the very first munch i went to~ the one back before i got married, the one where i got freaked out about outing myself and didn’t go back.  There were a couple of things that stood out for me so vividly that night.

A few people were talking about books, and they begin talking about the Gor series.  i was familiar with that series ~ i’d bought one, almost by mistake, not realizing how extreme it was, and then read it dog-eared, before i threw it away, ashamed of myself.

The memories from the book still linger ~ the game they played ~ outdoors ~ where she and 5 men were blindfolded.  Onlookers formed a circle around them.  She was belled.  

The men tried to catch her by the sound of the bell.  If she stood still for more than a certain number of seconds, a referee {of sorts} used his switch on her to make her move.  

The first four men who caught her got to use her sexually however they wanted.  

When each one released her, she had to return to the game.

Sigh… the branding scene was hot too.

But i digress.

At that munch, they were talking about the series, and one woman said, “My Master made me read them all.  The whole series.  I had to read a certain amount, so many chapters, every day.  It took me all summer.”  She shrugged.  “Some of them were better than others.”

i was struck by that ~ well, the memory has stayed with me all these years.  The image of her ~ well, of myself in her shoes ~ obediently reading the passages that i know would arouse me.

In my picture of it, i’m not allowed to masturbate, i have to wait in sodden wetness until my Master relieves me of an almost unbearable arousal.

Sheesh.  Yeah, that still makes me hot too.  And part of it is the aspect of being assigned the reading.  Being a voracious reader, i’ve never had someone tell me to read certain things, more often they’re telling me to get my nose out of that book and pay attention to them.

i think part of the appeal of the extreme fantasy is being relieved of any responsibility for anything.  There is that.  And for those of us who tend to be overly responsible, that probably has a powerful appeal.

But there is more to it.

Laughing… i just don’t know what it is.  

Maybe it doesn’t matter.  Maybe it’s enough to know the fantasy is there, soothing in its completeness, in the level of detail involved, in the arousal it brings.

We are looking for wholeness, for an integration of the parts of ourselves.

The Major is a part of me.  He is more than that too ~ He is also an extension of me ~ but He’s a part of me, and a part that i need more of.   So i project Him outside myself and fantasize about Him.

And i don’t know where that goes, or what that means… but the fantasy of Him lingers too.  And i want to enact parts of it, live them with my Sir.

Sit at His feet.  Spend hours lavishing Him with attention.  Be held and spanked and ~ loved. 

Yeah.

i’ve got a feeling it always comes back to that.  Somehow.

You Were Right

i’m on the run this morning already, but just wanted to tell you all how glad i am that you insisted i talk to Sir about my dissociative skill.  He said you all were right, that he did think it was important.

Actually, he sent me an email that touched me so deeply, i can’t even tell you.  There wasn’t a single note of pity, not a single note of anxiety about what i’d told Him.  He just accepted the information, acknowledged that it was important.

He went on to talk about how He sees what we’re doing, and he used this analogy:

“We are still defining your “normal” limits.  In the future, exploring those established limits will be more of a challenge for us both.  It’s like tip-toeing quietly down a hallway (your submission)  and discovering where the doors are in the hallway.  then once we have mapped out the doors, we can go back and gently turn the knob and peek into each one to see what we find beyond the door, and if what we find is exciting to us both then perhaps we can step inside together and enjoy it more completely.  So now we are still mapping out the doors.  It is my job to map those doors being careful not to accidentally fling one open, and I have my limits as well, I will not allow doorways that take us to places we definitely don’t want to go.” 

Sin’s been talking about safewords, and started a whole blogger community conversation about safewords, which has been very cool.   And i started to say, “i don’t think i have a safeword. ” 

~~ but then i thought, maybe that’s not right, maybe He did tell me we were using the “yellow – red” system.   That’s the most common one, the one i’ve usually had.  i’ve only used it a few times.

But unless Sir X has a sudden complete personality change, like you might have with a severe brain injury, i can’t imagine needing it with Him.   If there were anyone i could choose not to have a safeword with, it would be Him.

i have to tell you all, i am ~ not “crazy about Him” in an excited, roller coaster kind of way. {i’m so glad He doesn’t read me, so i can talk about this here.}

This is not an “On-the-edge-of-my-chair cause He might be the One,” kind of thrill.

Instead, the more i see of Him, the more i see how He handles himself and His life, other people in His life, and me ~ especially how He handles me ~ the deeper my respect for Him.  

He is even handed and measured in His responses to things.  Deliberate.  He thinks before He acts.  {i have not always chosen men who do this ~ i know, hard to believe.}

He’s honest and genuine.

He can tell me “no” in the nicest way.  Without being uncomfortable about it or leaving me feeling like i shouldn’t have asked.

i can depend on Him.  If He says something, He remembers He said it, and He follows through on it.  He hasn’t done any of the sudden disappearing that Doms sometimes do.

Not that He’s always available.  Like when i was at C.O.P.E., he gave me some times i was supposed to text Him, and said “I might not always respond, but I want to hear from you.”  i don’t mind that as long as i know to expect it, and as long as it’s not all the time.

AND He thrills me, and turns me on, makes me smile, and keeps me wet….

He’s my mate, you all, my Sir, maybe my Master.  i know i said that before here, and i’m sure i’ll say it again.  

i belong to Him.

Subspace for Me

When He puts the collar on me, it does something to me.  

The feeling of the material against my neck.  Whether it’s rope, a little stiff and rough, or leather, flexible and already broken in, it does something to me.

i am already a little on edge, because He is here, because we have finished dinner, because i have some idea what is coming next.  When He says, “Get your mat,” it ups the ante, i know it is time ~ let the games begin.

i know what to expect.  He has let me know some things that will happen each time, and my body is responding to the anticipation of what is coming.

i learn quickly, and the patterns feel engrained already.  My body trembles with anticipation, and a touch of anxiety.

As i get the mat, everything else falls away.  The act of preparing it ~ laying it out on the ground, putting a towel over it ~ these physical movements increase my arousal.

i know some things that will happen; i don’t know other things.  i know the order  of the implements he will use on me.  i don’t know how long, or how hard, or how well i’ll take it.  

i know we’ll practice positions.  

i don’t know what other things He will ask of me, or whether i’ll please Him with my responses.

All of these things are floating in my mind somewhere, increasing my arousal.  It is arousal in the sexual sense, and also just arousal in the “adrenaline flowing” sense.  

i am ready to act, attuned to Him, wanting to respond.

As I lay out the mat, my awareness of my own physical being increases.  The movements involved in doing it.  The way my hands and arms work.  My leg muscles as i kneel, the movement of my breasts as i arrange the towel.  

i am already wet.  

i sit on the towel, and wait.  Not for long, but in that minute or two ~

~~ anticipation builds.  

My awareness of my body increases.

My mind grows still.  i am open and receptive.

 i am not thinking in words anymore; there are sensations and images in my mind, but mostly i am focused right here and now.

When He sits in front of me, my attention becomes completely His.  

“Kneel,” He says.  “Do you remember that position?”

i do, and i move smoothly and quickly, wanting to do it just right.

He picks up the collar, “Leather tonight,” He says, and i know how it will feel around my neck.  “Come here.”

i scoot forward on my knees and He smiles a little.

i know, because He has told me before, that once He puts the collar on me, He expects me to obey Him without question.  i am not thinking about that, but that knowing is there.

As He puts it around my neck, i feel something inside me shift.  It is a breaking open ~ i don’t know how else to describe it.

He claims me with the collar, and i respond by opening to Him.  My heart opens, my mind is totally focused on Him, totally receptive.

My spirit opens.

As He buckles the collar, pulls it tight, there is awareness of my breath.  Of vulnerability.   The tension up just a notch ~ instinctive, not afraid, but hyper alert.

When He settles the collar into place, everything in me is His, the shift is more profound.  i am transformed.  Focused, open, receptive, totally in the here and now…

He has claimed me, i am His.

Subspace?

Sweet Girl  left this interesting comment on my post yesterday:

“I do have one question though; when you write “The collar goes on ~ a leather one tonight, He fastens it around me and i feel myself move deeper into subspace.” Do you mean a deeper submissive mindset? Surely you can’t go into subspace from the application of a collar (lovely as it is!),without the physical impact that’s not possible is it? (Genuine question -not criticism! It’s just that I’ve seen ppl write that before, and personally i have a hard time imagining it, after all it is a chemical reaction…Again, just wondering what you actually meant.)

And that gave me pause.  What did i mean?  And what does she mean “it’s a chemical reaction?” 

So i pondered it yesterday.

This morning, i googled it ~ BDSM subspace chemical reaction.  If you decide to google it, make sure you put BDSM or you’ll get articles on the mathematical term “subspace,” which is not so helpful.

i won’t pretend that i read every article that came up ~ there are lots of them.  i skimmed a few, glanced over a few more.  Some of them have detailed descriptions of how the process works, involving adrenaline and endorphins and enkephalins.

But the articles seemed to all be from a bdsm perspective ~ someone’s blog or an article someone wrote without any references.  One of the articles says:

Note: The author is the chairman of the POWERotics Foundation, an organization dedicated to providing reliable information to and about the BDSM community. This article is a team effort by the POWERotics team and includes input from medical professionals and psychologists. In fact, this is a “summary” of several much more in depth articles.

 But i couldn’t find the other articles, or the resources used.  No cites, no links.

You know, my mama raised me to question.  That particular article says, quite definitively, that you can’t have an orgasm while you’re in subspace.

First of all, i don’t know that anybody can say that kind of thing definitively.  But if you’re gonna say it, i want to see the actual research.  

i’m not even saying the research doesn’t exist.   Maybe there’s a sexual lab somewhere with scientists measuring degrees of subspace, then getting out the Hitachi to try to induce orgasm.  

{‘Nilla – doesn’t that sound like fun story material?  Maybe some of our subsisters and brothers would want to volunteer to participate too!}

Ok, seriously ~ and Sweet Girl, i’m not trying to make light of the question ~ but seriously, i want to see the research.

Other articles were just people’s blogs talking about what they thought ~ some of which, i bet they got from the “scientific” article ~ or other people’s blogs.   

So i’m gonna go way out on a limb here and say that the most reliable information we have about “subspace” is speculation and opinion.  And i can speculate and opine as well as anyone.

It makes sense to say subspace is a chemical reaction ~ everything we do involves chemical reactions in the brain.  It makes sense to say it involves adrenaline.

Adrenaline arouses.  It’s floods the body when we’re stressed or feel like we’re in danger, speeds up breathing, heart rate and so on as part of the fight-or-flight response.  it also works when we’re excited – think roller coasters.

When adrenaline’s pumping, you’re speeded up, everything’s focused on the trigger that aroused you.  You’re not thinking things through logically cause your body is prepared to react quickly .  All systems are alerted and aroused {not in a sexual sense, per se.}

Endorphins and enkephalins are the body’s natural pain killers.  

So, if you put the two together – heightened arousal and awareness and “feel good” chemicals ~

~ whew. 

How cool is that?

It accounts for what we tend to agree on ~ that when you’re in subspace you’re not able to think clearly and logically.   Adrenaline rushes shut down the executive functioning of the brain, the center of logical thinking and judgement.  

The pain-killer part explains why we seek it out, why we enjoy it instead of perceiving it as a panic attack.

Logically, that makes sense to me, that those chemicals would be involved in subspace.  So i’ll accept that.  

If you google these terms, you’ll find support for what i’m saying here, but more importantly, you can consult a textbook and find the same general information.  {I know, that’s not well cited, but when i googled it, i wasn’t impressed with the references i found.}

So, ok, subspace is a biochemical reaction.  Beyond that, i think we get to define what we believe about it and what our experience of it is like.

And i was going to do exactly that this morning, but i’m out of time.   i’ll come back to it either later today or tomorrow.  In the meantime ~

~~  what’s subspace like for you?  What do you mean when you use that term?  

Leave a comment describing it, or link to your blog if you need more space and want to write about it.  You can put the link in a comment over the next few days and i’ll link to your links in my posts if you like.  Or send it to me via email ~ aisha.hisservant@gmail.com ~ and i’ll post it.  

More on Polyamory and Raven

Raven talked about the need for communication and emotional transparency in poly relationships.

There may be degrees of transparency, ranging from complete transparency in the case of his slave, Josh, to much more limited transparency between him and a woman who is submissive to him in very limited ways.

He says this transparency applies to the Master too.  That the Master may withhold information to train, to create trust, or for some other specific reasons, but that it’s not ok to hide anything about the poly relationships.

He talked about Masters who wanted to avoid conflict, who didn’t want to deal with their slave being mad at them.  He said, “If you’re in charge, you should never be afraid of your slave’s anger.”

If you’re the Master you don’t need to hide what you’re doing, whatever that may be.

His words fit nicely with the image of Master that i have ~ someone who knows where He stands and isn’t afraid to stand there.  Who’s not afraid of feelings, not afraid of taking responsibility for his own actions.  {Or hers, right?}

He and Josh went on to tell a story about their  relationship that deeply touched me.  In my words~

When they got together, Josh thought he was a masochist.  He loved heavy pain play ~ loved “getting beat down.’  And Raven enjoyed giving him pain.

Then he realized ~ Raven realized ~ that when they played that way, Josh was “going away.”  He was dissociating, and wasn’t really present for the experience.

That wasn’t ok with Raven.  He stopped that kind of play immediately. 

So Josh worked on some of his issues and learned to be present, only to discover that he’s NOT really a masochist, and that he didn’t really like heavy pain much at all.  

Raven has started introducing pain again very slowly, with basic spanking.  Josh says that’s kind of humiliating for him, since he once prided himself on being able to take so much. But it’s clearly a much healthier place to be.

For Raven, it was essential that his partner be present for the experience.  For Josh, it’s been an opportunity to grow

Of course, it left Raven without a pain play partner.  So together, he and Josh shopped for ~ and found ~ someone to fill that need.

And that takes me to the biggest point of all this.

How much does Josh have to love Raven to be able to help him find someone to give him what Josh is not capable of providing?

Immeasurable, right?

Sigh…

Raven says polyamory is about getting to the point that seeing your partner happy makes you happy.  Josh talks about the difficulty of letting go of the idea that he could give Raven everything he needs or wants.

And i recognize the truth of that.   i can feel the benefit of being able to let go of my own ego enough to let someone else provide what i can’t.

That doesn’t mean it’s for everyone.

And Raven is, I  think, unusually good at doing this.  He talks about the need to make sure each  person in the relationship knows that they’re valued, knows what gifts they bring.  

He seems to have helpied Josh through the emotional growth he needed to do to truly accept it, not to accept it with “a mumbling heart,” but with a joyful heart.

Listening to them, i could see it clearly.  

i don’t think Sir X has any intention of us being poly, and i’m glad for that.  But i will try to be open also.  Some of the same principals apply to other relationships, right? 

Raven’s message goes beyond poly, and is really about wanting the people we love to have their needs met, whatever that means for them.

Show and Tell

So we meet at 2:30, Sir X and i.  Go to Starbucks for coffee and to start the Show and Tell.  {Noooo, not that kind of show and tell.}

His show and tell is a picture on His phone ~ of a shoe horn.  A long-handled shoe horn.  

The “tell” goes like this:

He has a coffee table, and was thinking you could tie someone to it.  That it would serve well as a spanking bench.  

Then He realizes the angle would be wrong if He were using a belt.  The height, the way the person would be tied, it just wouldn’t work. 

Then He sees the shoe horn.  He realizes that if He used that, the angle wouldn’t be a problem. 

Of course, it is a mean looking shoe horn, something like this:

Yikes.

He has also brought a bag of toys, but we don’t look at those in Starbucks; that comes later.

So i had actually brought a card with an Anais Nin quote on it ~ the one that goes:

“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom.”  ~ Anais Nin

because i think of that as part vanilla and part kink.  We talk about what it means to me.  He likes it.

But then it occurs to me that i actually have something else to show Him.  {Ok, quit laughing, i know, there are lots of other things i could have shown Him, that’s not what i mean.}

No, on Sunday, when i was practicing with the small gift He’d given me, for some reason {don’t ask me why, i don’t know} i’d taken a picture of my nipple with the little rope wheel-person around it.  i think i’d had some thought of using it on here, but discarded that idea.

Anyhow, sitting there in Starbucks, it occurs to me that the nipple shot might make a nice show and tell.  So a little shyly, i pull my phone out.

“And then there’s this,” i say.

As i’d hoped, He seems pleased with it.

And then, coffee in hand, we embark on a series of adventures.  i won’t detail them all ~ but the theme for the day is “doing private things in public places.”  

Just a few minutes of one thing, then on to the next.  “Like a sampler plate,” He says.

i giggle.

There was a park picnic table and His toy bag.   Ropes and cuffs and collars and such…  very nice.

There was a public building and the multi-sex bathroom on the second floor.  The kind that doesn’t have stalls, but just one big room.    Private enough for a few minutes of kinky exploration.

But then He opens the door to “make sure it’s clear,” ~~

~~ and leads me out right past some man waiting to get in.

i’m too embarrassed ~ and we’re moving too fast ~ to see the man’s face, i can only imagine.  But i giggle all the way back to the car.

There are a couple of more stops before dinner, including a cemetery, and some tasks for me, but i’ll leave that to your imagination for now.

Dinner with Ms. Constance and Drew, J, and Tammy was lots of fun, and if i consider how much Domly energy there was at the table, it’s a wonder that Drew and i weren’t crushed.

{laughing…}  

Except really they aren’t like that at all, well, not last night anyhow, and Sir X and i both had a good time.

And yes, we’re seeing each other again.  Thursday night.

Friday i go to COPE.

And in 30 days, ‘Nilla will be here.

Life is good.

O, i almost forgot to tell you ~ Sir X gave me another gift.  Since i practiced successfully with the one rope noose thing-y, i get to keep that one, and i have something else to try.  i’ll tell you about it tomorrow… 

Discipline (Part III)

“Come on,” says Selena, “You know the drill.  In the shower.”

“Are youall going to do this all week?” i ask, stepping into the shower.  

Diana shrugs, “That depends on you.  At some point, you might earn the privilege of showering on your own.  In the meantime,” she grins, “you’re all ours.”

They wash me quickly, not roughly, but matter-of-factly, and shave me, just as they had the previous night.  Much to my dismay, they rouge me again, my nether lips and nipples, and my mouth.  i cannot imagine appearing like this in front of someone else.

Selena pulls on my nipples, hard, before applying the lipstick, and i feel a responsive twinge in my pussy.  i think i can smell my own juices.  She looks at me for a moment, smiles, before she finishes applying the bright coloring to my hard nipples.

“Who’s coming for dinner?’ i ask.  “Do youall know?”

They exchange a look, i don’t know what it means, but Diana shrugs and says, “Lots of people come to Him for advice on training their sluts.  What difference does it make who it is?”

As she talks, she unlocks the closet door, swings it open.   i gasp.  Hanging on the inside of the door is an extensive array of whips, crops, and floggers..    Selena laughs.  “You hadn’t seen the inside of the closet before?”

i shake my head, “no.”

There are clothes in the closet too, and Diana rifles through them; pulls out a corset.  The most beautiful purple corset you can imagine.  She hold it out to Selena, “This one?”

“Yes, that works, lets see if it fits, i think it will,” says Selena.

“Do you have different sizes?” i ask, wondering what kind of person The Major is.  Does He just kidnap random women all the time?  The thought makes me sad.

“Some different ones,” says Diana.  “They’ve been acquired over the years for parties, from parties.  Some of them are ours.  This one isn’t though.  This one He bought with you in mind.”

She puts the corset on me.  It doesn’t cover my breasts, it raises them, exposes them instead, the nipples pointing forward.  The color they’ve applied tonight has a purplish tinge, the color of the corset highlights it.

Selena begins to lace it, loosely at first, apparently making sure it’s coming together evenly, then Diana helps her as they tug on it, lacing it tightly.  

When they are finished, i am constricted.  i can breathe, of course, but i’m very much encased in the corset, it contains me.

“Now the shoes,” says Diana.  The shoes are purple too, high heeled and strappy.  The straps become laces, and they have me put each foot on a little stool while they criss-cross the laces up my legs, over the calves, finally tying them, rather like this:

Between the shoes and the corset, i appear to be all tied up.  They turn me so i can see myself in the mirror.  i am embarrassed and delighted.

The rouge between my legs and on my nipples so clearly draws attention there, and the corset is made to reveal and highlight those parts that we usually keep covered.  My waist, of course, looks slimmer, my legs longer ~ overall, i can’t help thinking i’m a fairly sexy wench.

They put a collar on me then; tonight it is a silver chain, like a dog’s choke collar.  The extra length of it lies in the hollow of my neck, cool and  heavy.  

They had taken off the necklace with the tokens on it, the 3 punishment tokens, but they add the tokens to the collar, dangling each one from a link on the chain.  There are two on one side, and only one on the other.  With little discussion, they agree to add a fourth one “for balance.”

“But,” i can’t help protesting, “But i didn’t do anything, He won’t think “that’s four,” will He?”

Diana rolls her eyes, Selena laughs, “Of course He will,” she says.

A wave of panic sweeps over me, this is so unfair, tears well up in my eyes ~ He will think i’ve been bad, He’ll be disappointed in me, AND omigosh, they could add as many as they like.  There’s nothing i can do about it.  i start to protest, “But that’s -” and i was going to say “not fair,” and i realize that’s ridiculous, this has nothing at all to do with fair.

They’re watching me, waiting, curious.  i don’t even know what expressions flit over my face as i take this in.  i gulp.  Fight back the tears.  Only then do i say, “i hadn’t ~ i hadn’t quite realized.  But of course, yes,   i am ~ i am ~ under your discipline too?” 

“Certainly you are right now,” says Diana gently, pinching my nipple, not so gently.

They finish putting chains on me, on my wrists and ankles.  i am a little dazed, not knowing what to expect next.

At last they are finished, satisfied with their efforts.  They point out the marks left on my ass from earlier, admiring them, and i realize that i agree, they are pretty.  i like the way they look.

“Pinch your nipples,” says Selena.  “Go ahead.  Hard.  Make them stand out.  Yes, just like that.  See how pretty they are?”  i’m embarrassed still, but she’s right, it is pretty.

“He wants to display you, you know,” says Diana.  “That means He’s pleased with you.  Proud of you. Don’t let Him down.” 

They attach the leash to my collar, and lead me out of the room.  Down a hallway, and into the room that is like a study.  He is seated in one chair, and for a moment, i am only aware of Him.  

He stands and they drop my leash, nudge me forward.  The leash dangles, i’m aware of it touching my pussy as i walk toward Him.  Some part of my mind notices the other man in the room, he has stood as well.  But i move toward The Major without a glance in the other man’s direction.

Nervous, hoping i do this right, i raise my lips to His.  Brush them lightly.  Take His hand and caress it with a kiss on the palm.  

i kneel then, and He takes out His cock, allows me to kiss it.  i long to do more, but He puts it away, sits back down.  The other man had already sat back down, and i wonder if he rose as a courtesy, as men sometimes do when women enter the room.  “Stay there,” says The Major, to me, and i remain kneeling in front of Him.

To the other man, He says, “I’ve not trained her to greet others yet.  That will come later.  And what you don’t want to do, what i wouldn’t do, is tell her to do something before I’m sure I have her unquestioning obedience.”  

He gestures to me then, motioning for me to come closer, and when i do, He allows me to sit at His feet, the corset keeps me from curling my body quite the way i’d like to, but i am as close to Him as i can get.  “Good girl,” He says.

And my heart is filled with joy.  My pussy throbs, i grin at Him, and a shiver runs through me.  Right here is exactly where i want to be.

Discipline (Part II)

i expect him to drop that bombshell and walk out, that is so his style, but He doesn’t.  Instead, He continues giving Selena and Diana instructions.

“The purple corset, i think.  Make sure you lace it tight enough.  And the heels to match, of course.”

i am standing there, stunned and silent.  Really, company for dinner??  And i’m going to wear a corset and heels, and nothing else?  He can’t be serious.

He turns to me then.  “Slut of mine,” and He pulls me to Him for a moment.   Fists His hand in my hair, right at the nape of my neck.  “Are you freaked out, little one?”

“Yes, Sir, just a little bit,” i say, but with His hand in my hair, pressed against Him, the rough fabric of His shirt rubbing my nipples ~ i feel myself slipping into that place of submission where anything can be ok.  i try to push back in my head ~

“Company, Sir?  Who, may i ask you Who’s coming?”

“Does it make a difference?”  His voice is silky, smooth, and i feel more anxious.

“No – no, um i guess not, um,” i gulp, “i just – i mean, what if it’s someone i know, or ~ is it a guy?  What if…” and my voice trails off.  i look at my feet.”

He tilts my head back, so i’m looking into His eyes.  

His voice is gentle.  “Have you not been naked at public events before?  Wasn’t that in front of strangers?    Some of whom were ‘guys.’ This is not even a first for you.  Have a little faith in me, my dear slut.”

i feel bad then ~ of course, He’s right, i have played in public, naked in front of strangers, and not felt bad about it.  Here i’ve just given Him control of me for a whole week and felt the joy of belonging, and now, minutes later, i’m already questioning Him.  

“i’m sorry…” i stammer, “i just…”

His hand in my hair tightens.  “Sorry?”

“For, um, for questioning you, for not trusting you…” my voice trails off, uncertain now.

“No.”  He shakes His head.  “No, i want you to ask.  Want you to question.  i don’t want you to hide anything, doubts or fears.”  He grins, “And then I’ll tell you to have a little faith in me, right?”

i smile back, so relieved,  “Yes, Sir.  And i do, you know i do, have faith in you.”

“Yes,” and He’s smiling too.  “Now,” He says, “I’m going to leave you to be prepared for this evening.  But first i want you to kneel down and kiss my cock,   Wait ~” as i had started to kneel, He stops me.

“Wait.  It is a three part greeting.  You will kiss my lips first, just a brief kiss, then my hand,  then you kneel and kiss my cock.   And you’ll use this greeting for the duration of your stay here, and at times, even after you leave.  Whenever i enter the room, before i leave the room, you’re to follow this process.  Is that clear?”

“Yes, Sir,” i say, and i’m delighted.  This will be a perfect way to express my feelings for Him, the deep submission i experience with Him.

“Then show Me now,” He says.  “I have work to do before dinner.”

i rise on my toes to kiss His lips, just brushing His lips with mine. 

He nods His approval.

i take His hand in mine, turn it and bend to kiss the palm, wanting to make the brief contact a sensual caress.

“Good,” He says, patting my chin.

i kneel then, so i am on a level with His cock.  He unzips His pants, pulls His cock out, offers it to me, half-hard, laying on His hand.

i hesitate, not sure what He wants.  Leaning forward, i place my lips, slightly pursed, on the tip of His cock, laying a tiny kiss on Him, right there.

“Yes,” He says.  “Just like that, unless i tell you differently, that’s just right.  Now~~”

~~ He takes my nipples, one in each hand, and pulls upward, til i rise to my feet.  He presses my body to Him, and smacks me lightly a couple of times on the ass.

i purr and would have wriggled closer into Him, but He pushes me away, laughing… “No, slut.  No more.  Go with Diana and Selena.  Now.”

i’m laughing too ~ “Yes, Sir.”

And then He is gone, and Diana and Selena are smiling at me, watching me, and i suddenly feel very alone, naked and vulnerable.