Oh, That’s Better!

It was a busy weekend for us here, and i didn’t really have a chance to talk to Sir.  By the time i got home yesterday afternoon, i was emotionally and physically drained.

i kept thinking i needed to talk to Him, and had kind of worked myself into a little ~  panic isn’t the right word.  i don’t know.  i just kept thinking how much i need to feel His dominance, how much better i feel when i do.

Then, before i even had to broach the subject, He told me that He’d been thinking ~ that He wanted to tether me to the bed at night, not every night forever maybe, but every night for a week at least, and did i think i could handle that?

Of course, i had to laugh a little bit.  It was not what i expected.  But it will certainly be a reminder of my place in our relationship.

He was concerned that it would make it difficult for me if i had to go to the bathroom, and offered to get me a bucket to keep by the bed in case that was going to be a problem.  i assured Him that no, i could manage to carry the tether with me to the bathroom!

{Good grief.  A bucket by the bed?  i’m pretty sure He was just kidding.  Um, pretty sure…}

But then He spanked me a bit, and let me take His shoes off, and massage His legs, and do some other things while i was there anyhow.  Then He tied me to the tether and i fell asleep in moments.

It was lovely, and i feel MUCH better.

Kitty, the Submissive Wife, writes a powerful post here about the current limits of her submission.  i’ve read it three times now, started to comment each time, but was not sure i had anything worthwhile to say.  Lots of thoughts ~ but the thoughts are more about my reactions to the post and what i think it means to me, and not necessarily connected with what she meant or where she’s going with it.

First, you know, when she says:

I can not sustainably submit myself outside of the bedroom. Those are big words for me to write. And as long as I am writing them, I will add others – I not only can’t do it, I don’t really want to.

i mentally stand up and applaud her.  i am a huge admirer of people who know what they want and are not afraid to own that.   i strive for that myself.

We each have our own flavor of submission, and the goal is not just to submit but to be more fully who we are.  No one can truly dictate that.

Sir leads me to explore aspects of myself, and i give Him the power to do that,  but ultimately, it is up to me.  Ultimately, the agreement needs to be to my benefit as much as to His.

i find that i am  more emotionally charged and energized  if i feel the expression of His dominance every day.  A spanking, His hand in my hair, sitting at His feet, or being tethers to the bed ~ these things are helpful for me.

 i assume they please Him too ~ i hope they do.  i want them/ need them/ am better off for them.  He doesn’t have to insist or push me to submit to these things  ~ i welcome them.

That’s not to say that i’ll always feel like doing them.  When i had to get up last night to let the cat out, i was not thrilled with having to carry the tether with me to the front door ~ and at the same time, i was fine with it.

But there’s a difference between not feeling like doing something in that moment and feeling like a particular act of submission is not the way i want to be submissive.

So Sir and i are still exploring that ~ what works for both of us.  i think i’m going to give Him a list of submissive things i really like… that should be fun!

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On a whole other note, here’s the link to the Bluegrass Leather Event, which includes the KBC ~ the Kinky Bloggers Convention.  Go ahead and get registered now!!

P.S.  Does everyone else in the entire world actually recognize a Corvette and a Ferrari just by glancing at them as you drive through the parking lot?  Sir says i am the only person in the entire world ~ including developing and third world countries ~ who does not recognize these distinctive cars.  i’m pretty sure He’s exaggerating ~ it can’t just be me.  Also, did youall know that Corvettes are the only sports cars made in America?  i do now.  i also now know the difference between a sports car and a sedan. Learn something EVERY day!

The Dom Paradox, RFP’s and Possibly More

Monkey did  a post recently that ended with this:

One minute I was thinking how complex my feelings toward submission are, and the next my subconscious made a statement that startled the hell out of me.

“You think you’re conflicted”, said my brain, “Doms, by nature, have a massive contradiction already built in”.

Think about it, the drive to control, to challenge us, both mentally and physically, paired with that protective, nurturing instinct. “I need to push you to your limits and beyond, as much as I need to comfort you and brush away your tears “. How  much more conflicting even for the sadists? They hurt us and then comfort us because we are hurt. What an enigma.

How difficult must that be at times, to live with?

I’ve found myself pondering this post, and going back to reread it.  The last time i read it, a series of memories flashed through my mind.  

In high school, i had a girl friend who used to babysit. She once confessed that when she was watching an infant, after they fell asleep, she would sometimes wake them up, thereby making them cry, and then rock and console them back to sleep.  It kind of gave me chills when she told me, i must have been 14 or so, and i felt like i should tell someone, but didn’t know who to tell.

i thought about it for a long time, trying to understand it.

Then i remembered when i was dating my very first Dom, “Mike Moore”, i hurt my knee while we were out. i could barely walk, and he insisted on carrying my to the car and then into the house. i protested – he insisted – i apologized – and he grinned and said, “You know, I hate to say this, but there’s something kind of hot about you not being able to walk. I know, that’s sick isn’t it? But it makes you kinda vulnerable, and I like that.”

There was T, and my realization that he preferred him women a bit more emotionally fucked up then i was at the time.  i know, that sounds crazy, but he really did.  He needed me needier.

And my ex ~ not the first one, the second one, who was maybe a Dom.  He was at his best when i was at my worst.  If i was sick or upset, he was strong and sensitive and kind.  But he needed me to be weak for him to be strong, and you already know i wouldn’t pretend to be weak all the time or to be weak in ways that i wasn’t.

Actually, he took such good care of me when i was sick that i used to think maybe i should become a hypochondriac and just lay up on the couch all the time.  Ok, i just considered it for a minute, but it was kind of tempting.

And then i thought about MoR ~ for some reason that “too competent for your own good” has been floating through my head lately anyhow.  Whatever he meant by it at the time, it’s come to mean a lot of things for me.

Even JM the amazing analyst says that women who have a relationship with their father that keeps them safe and sheltered don’t develop the same kind of competence as those of us who were not so secure in that relationship.  It is, on some level, to some extent, a trade-off.  

And the message i got in some of those relationships was that less competent was better.  Youall know i don’t believe that the lesson from that is “Be less competent,” and i don’t believe that MoR meant that, and i know my Sir doesn’t want that.   i have just needed someone who didn’t need me to be smaller in order for them to feel bigger, and that not my point either.

But ~ here we go ~ here’s the point ~ the fact that i’m competent in no way means that i’m not also very vulnerable.  Doms are able to tap into that vulnerability, bring it to the surface, and make it safe to feel it, to be aware of it.

That is a delicate operation.  i appreciate the beauty of it so much.

Ok, so i’m not speaking for all Doms or all submissives by any means, and it probably doesn’t apply to every D/s couple.   But it gave me one of those nice aha moments, when something clicks into place for me and makes sense.

He leads me to take the risk of vulnerability, makes me fully aware of it ~ which is distressing, scary, and difficult ~ and then He makes it ok that i’ve done so.  How cool is that??

Thoughts?

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An RFP ~ Request for Proposals:

At the Kinky Bloggers track of the Bluegrass Leather Event on the first weekend in March, there will be a day of classes ~ four time slots.  Two classes will be specifically with us bloggers in mind, although bloggers would not be obliged to attend them, and other folks would be welcome to come.

One of them will be the kind of discussion we have here in the comments section, possibly about Blogging as a Healing Tool, and will relate to some of the aspects of trauma and healing that i often talk about.  There will also be a kink-aware therapist helping facilitate that discussion.

The other class will be on blogging ~ a wide range of  things to cover.  It might include:

ways to grow your readership, developing a style, content, and maybe a bit about both beginnings and ends – how to get started, how to know when you’re done.  

And/or…

Pros and Cons of blogging: confidentiality issues, the toll on your relationship (or benefit to your relationship) — the sisterhood… 

and WHAT?  What would you like to see included in that?  

i know, i said The Dom Paradox, RFP’s and Possibly More – but there’s no time for more, and i like the title too much to change it.  

That Pesky Asking Thing

If you’ve been reading here, you already know that asking for things ~ anything ~ is not my favorite thing to do.  Sometimes, i would rather go without than ask.  

i know this is not a helpful way of being.  i am making an effort ~ have been making an effort ~ to change it.  i make progress.  Then i wake up and realize that i’m back in that “i’d rather die than ask” space.

Sigh.

You know, it comes from having to be self-reliant.  A long history of not getting what i needed taught me that i could get by without any help, thank you very much.

This is not all bad.  i’m pretty darn competent.

Too competent for my own good, that’s what the Dom i called MoR used to say.  Some of you may remember that.  It used to infuriate me when he said it, partly because i knew exactly what he meant.  Or at least what i thought he meant.

Cause what happens is ~ i need something, and i won’t ask for it.  Just won’t.  

i might talk around it.  About it.  Hint at it.  Allude to it.  But ask for it?  No, thanks.  i’ll wait for that cold day in hell.

Sometimes, i really want Him, my Sir, to tell me to do something.   i want to do the thing that i want Him to tell me to do too, but i also want Him to tell me to do it.  If i tell Him i want Him to tell me to do it, i’m pretty sure that’s me asking, not Him telling, even if He then tells me to do it.  {Is that sufficiently muddled and cryptic?}

But i want HIM to tell ME first, not after i ask Him to tell me.

Sigh.

Ok, stop it.  i know some of you have your hands poised on the comment button, ready to tell me i need to talk to Him about this.  Just stop right there.  {Laughing…}

i already know that.  Really, i do.  i mean, you can tell me again if it will make you feel better, but i already know.  Now if you just want to say, Poor baby, life is tough, and if you can say it without sounding TOO sarcastic, that would be appreciated!

{And for real, i value all your comments.  Even if occasionally  you do just tell me what i already know, it reinforces it.}

 

Post-Xmas

i spent a lazy day yesterday, relaxing and unwinding from the frenzied pre-Xmas week.  i enjoy that week a lot, and never plan far enough ahead to keep it from being a bit frenzied, and am perfectly ok with that too.  As a recovering perfectionist, i know that the more time i have to do something, the more i will expand what there is to do, and how well it needs to be done.

We had a lovely Christmas, and our families who were able to come over did too, at least they seemed to.  Presents were well-received, food was eaten, laughter and good times were had by all.  

So yesterday, when my one obligation gets cancelled and i realize that i can avoid going out into the nasty weather and spend the day tucked in at home, i jump at the opportunity.   i have approximately 13 new projects to start, or new pieces of things to add onto old ones, and my house needs the last touches of tidying, and i need to answer blog comments, and i need to polish the silver before i put it away, and ~ and ~ and i don’t do any of those things.

i write two blog posts ~ Naomi and a vanilla one.

i take a nap and have an orgasm ~ um, not in that order.

My sister comes by and we hang out for a while.

i piddle around on the computer.  Think about doing things.

And when Sir comes home, i feel guilty.  He has been at work all day.  He hasn’t had the luxury of staying home and doing nothing.  There is so much i could have done, and i haven’t done any of it.

i say as much to Him, apologetically.  Tell Him i feel bad about it.  

He looks surprised.  “Lots of people are off work today,” He says.

“Yeah, i know,” and i feel better for a second, “But ~ i could have done a lot of stuff around here,” i add, feeling bad again.

He looks around, shrugs.  “We’ve been running since last Friday.”  He reminds me of all the things we’ve done.  “You needed some time,” He says.  “I don’t want you to feel guilty about taking some time today.”

So i’m working on that.  Not feeling guilty.

And i was thinking about it when i read Monkey’s post today.  You can read it here.  

{Forgive me, Monkey, if i’ve gotten this wrong.}

She’s talking about rules, and her feeling that she didn’t have any, but then she recognizes that she does, they are just not being presented the way she thought they would be.  She says:

This is the way it goes in my imagination, in much that I read,and in many other relationships  (including my relationship with Big Bad) revolving around D/s…

Dom/Domme holds out the (behavior/idea/incipient rule/shiny thing), and says/infers “Do this”.  The will is being pushed toward the sub, who accepts it.

David offers me the (behavior/idea/incipient rule/shiny thing), puts it within my reach, and then leaves it up to me to draw it in.

Subtle but distinct differences. That’s the best illustration I can draw.

Just because something was not presented formally, doesn’t make it any less of a rule…

So when Sir says, “I don’t want you to feel guilty about…” whatever ~ that’s a very different order than “You will kneel when I enter the room.”  In fact, it would be easy for me to completely miss the significance of His words.  i could think He just means He’s not mad at me, or disappointed in me {which is also true.}  

It’s up to me to remember that when Sir says, “I want” or “I don’t want,” He IS telling me what to do.  It’s up to me to hear that.

And maybe “rule” isn’t the right word ~ it’s an order, a command.  If i go back and tell Him,  “You know, you said you didn’t want me to feel guilty about *whatever,* but i still do,” He’ll be surprised and not pleased.   He’ll actually make me talk about it til i figure out why i can’t do what He told me to do, til i figure out how to do it.

It would be easier to have a rule that says i have to do “x” chores every day than it is to let go of feeling guilty about my lazy day.  It’s much harder to recognize that the voice in my head beating me up about it is not His voice, it’s mine, and i need to help myself silence that voice.  

It helps to remember i need to do it because He says so.

Getting Enough

Does anyone feel like they’re getting enough kink, enough control, enough sex, enough of it all?

i was talking to a submissive friend, who is not “getting enough,” and in some ways, often, neither am i.  Not complaining, just saying.  i want more.  

And what would be “enough?”  Is this a submissive “thing?”  Are we ever satisfied or are we insatiable?

So i’m taking a poll.  Now, don’t answer based on last night.  Think about the last 3 months and answer based on that, ok?  

i know, this was supposed to be a Naomi day, but the next installment isn’t ready yet, and i was wondering about this.  So humor me, take the poll.  

i’m gonna go answer comments, maybe i’ll post Naomi later today.  Tomorrow for sure.

Drained

Sorry, friends, i’m empty right now.

Got home late last night ~ well, late for me ~  after a project i’d been working on had come to completion.  i was drained then.

Sir had worked on the paddle some more ~ it’s now smoother where he sawed it, and on the edges, and ready, He says, for sanding.  Um, o, yay?

He was going to really use it last night, at least i guess He was, and i didn’t resist but i really didn’t want Him to.  Really didn’t.

It was a big ole trigger, for whatever reason, and i was bent over the bed, hands tied, thinking some really sad thoughts, my head was just not in the right space.  i was wondering if getting spanked and paddled would put me in “the right headspace” or if i was going to dissociate instead.

Wondering very dispassionately, from a distance.

Wondering if i should say something.

Not knowing what to say.  

So i’m saying nothing, and He’s doing what He would normally do, and i guess, expecting me to respond, only i’m not.

Not verbally, not physically.

i feel like i’m not there.

And wondering if pain will bring me back or if i’ll go farther away.

i don’t know what’s happening with Him.  i don’t know if He can tell i’m gone.

But He stops.  He puts the paddle down and unties my hands and pulls  me to Him.

He wraps me in His arms and finishes taking my clothes off and puts me to bed.

He gets in bed too and He lets me hold Him for a long time.   Then we go to sleep.

This morning, i am here again.  

Not sure why i’m still drained, emotions close to the edge.  i’ve already cried twice this morning ~ once over a touching blog post.

Then i watched this video that Donna sent and cried because it was so beautiful.

https://www.youtube.com/watch_popup?v=GBaHPND2QJg&feature=youtu.be

i don’t know what would have happened if Sir had continued with the paddle last night.  i don’t know.  Maybe it would have been ok.

But i’m so grateful and glad that Sir is my Sir.  What He did last night made me feel like He saw me, that He wasn’t just on His own path and not aware of me.  i don’t know what He thought, and we haven’t talked about it, but He knew what i needed.

i love Him.

And i didn’t think i had anything to say this morning… guess i did after all.

Simmering

i’ve been hurting this week about some things that happened with a friend a while back and haven’t been resolved.  The way it’s playing out kicks in that old, old belief of mine that if i tell people how i feel when i’m hurt, they will go away ~ and that’s my fault because there’s something wrong with me.

You know, we all have some fear like that, the fear that we’re not ok, not good enough, not lovable.   It’s irrational, and not based on fact, and it’s still super powerful.  When it digs its claws in, it can be hard to get free again.

A beating helps.  A good ass whipping can dispel some of that, and make me feel a whole lot better.  { Why is that? }

But this weekend, i talked to Sir about it ~ not for the first time, but this time i share the underbelly of my feelings about it.  i let Him see that i have gone from some unfortunate events deep into a place of shame.

He listens and listens and asks questions and there is magic in His words and such tenderness in His voice, and as we talk it is as if He draws some poison from my soul.  

Yeah, i know that sounds dramatic, but it was just like that.  

It leaves me in thrall to Him.

“In thrall to.”  i am “in thrall to Him.”

i love that phrase ~ it came to my mind, and then i wasn’t sure it meant what i thought, so i had to look it up.  From the online dictionary, we get:

a. One, such as a slave or serf, who is held in bondage. b. One who is intellectually or morally enslaved. 

Yep, that’s what i thought it meant, and that’s what i am.

So this morning, while we’re sitting here doing our separate on-line things, He reaches over and touches my shoulder.

Pulls my robe back to expose my breast.

Caresses my bare shoulder with one thumb, then lays His hand on my upper chest.

My whole body responds with a shiver of pleasure and lust.  My exposed nipple is hard, thrusting out, seeking His touch.

And He does, He takes the nipple between thumb and forefinger, gently, dispassionately, rolls it back and forth.

A shudder runs through my body and i moan, hips thrusting upwards, seeking more.

He plays for a minute, maybe a minute, just His fingertips on one exposed nipple, making me cry out.

Then He releases the nipple, places His hand on my throat, pressing just enough that i feel the control.  i whimper.

He releases my throat, pushes my robe back in place, and turns His attention back to His computer, leaving me hot and longing for more.

Simmering.  i am always simmering these days.  On the verge of boiling over. 

In thrall to Him.

In the Corner

“Go stand in the corner,” He says.

It sends a rush of humiliation through me that warms me ~ warms my face, and then my pussy.

It’s not punishment.  He sends me to the corner to wait.  Once when He was giving me directions ~ remember that time we went out for dinner and He texted me things to do first?   The texts ended with me in the corner, hands clasped behind my back, waiting for Him.

Twice more now, when He has wanted a bit of time to prepare for what He was going to do next, He has sent me to the corner.  i stand quietly, close to the wall.

i can’t see what He’s doing.  i can hear movement, but don’t know what it means.  

The wall encircles the front of me, i feel safe and secure.  With my hands behind my back, i am helpless to do anything, not expected to do anything.  i feel submissive almost immediately.

Carefully parked in one spot, all i have to do is wait.  It is a theme for Him you know.  Placing me where He wants me while He does what He needs to do.

i feel safe and secure, and my back is exposed and vulnerable.  It is an illusion of safety.

He will come up behind me, and i don’t know how it will happen ~ will He take my hair at the nape of my neck, place His arm around my neck, press a hand to my throat, simply pull my pants down where i stand?

i don’t know.

i know that whatever happens, will happen in His time.   In His way.  So i wait.

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On a random note, i got a ton of hits yesterday ~ over 300 of them before i even posted on Kink and Trauma.  Weird ~ the search engine term connected with 220 of them was a “yahoo image”  search for nadu slave.

Super weird, ’cause when i do that search, i don’t even come up.  {Shrug…}  Whatever.  

Another blog i write for got over 200 hits from Japan yesterday.  No idea why.  It’s just strange.

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And finally, i ran across this quote this morning.  i might have more to say about it, i don’t know.  It just seems like it belongs here today.

“Our bodies have five senses: touch, smell, taste, sight, hearing. But not to be overlooked are the senses of our souls: intuition, peace, foresight, trust, empathy. The differences between people lie in their use of these senses; most people don’t know anything about the inner senses while a few people rely on them just as they rely on their physical senses, and in fact probably even more.”

― C. JoyBell C.

Antenna?

We are no longer calling them antennas, Sir says.  He says that may have once been what they were, but they have a different purpose now, and need a different name. 

He suggested some acronym that started with “The Items Formerly…” which is good, that gives you TIF, but then He went to something that had a WKP or some such construction, which doesn’t really flow when you say it.  So i woke up this morning with this suggestion ~ simple and to the point:

The Items Formerly Know as Antenna

which gives us TIFKA, easily pronounced.

Sir accepted that suggestion, but was concerned about the need for it to be plural, suggesting TIFKAe, on the premise that the plural of antenna is antennae.  i suspect many of you think that too, but actually, as i told Sir, antennae is only the plural when you’re talking about the things that stick out of bugs’ heads. When you’re talking about the thing that attaches to radios and cars and so on, then it’s actually antennas.

He gave me the skeptical look, and i said, “No, really!” and then had to add, “i can send you the link, i looked it up.”‘

So for my skeptical grammarian friends, here’s a link.  

And actually, TIFKA is already plural because it’s “Items Formerly Known…” not “Item.”

But these are the kind of things Sir and i spend our time on when He’s not beating my ass or engaging in other kinky good times…

No, Sir didn’t use TIFKA on me yesterday, despite my desire, because we had a full day of activities that went on into the evening, and by the time we got home, we were ready to fall into bed ~

fall into bed and cuddle, i lie spooned against Him, warm and snug, safe and content.

Able to sleep knowing that when i don’t get what i want, then tomorrow is another day, and it will happen when the time is right.  

Greengirl asked me yesterday in a comment if i wonder why that happens sometimes, why we can wake up suddenly longing for pain or more connection or more control.  i don’t know why.

i used to think it was something He’d done ~ or not done ~ that what i was getting had not been enough.  Or i might think it was something about me ~ that i was too needy, too demanding, too something-wrong.

Now, i think it just happens, i don’t know why, and that’s ok.  If i wake up craving ice cream, i’m not surprised or concerned.   It just happens.

{Although, ice cream might be on my mind because it’s off my menu these days, but i digress.}

i did send Sir the link to my poem yesterday.  He doesn’t usually read the blog, unless i ask Him too, but when i’m feeling like that, He needs to know.  He trusts me to share what’s important from the blog, and i try to maintain that trust.

And i can wait for His response, confident that He’ll do what is right, regardless of whether or not it’s exactly what i want.  In the meantime, TIFKA lies in the closet, softly calling my name.

Part V ~ Questions for Dominants

What is the quality you find hardest to deal with in a submissive, on a personal level?

Sir laughs a little bit at this one and says, “Well, you have to keep in mind, I consider challenges fun.”

But i promise you, He doesn’t mean challenges like the brattiness that Ms. Constance talks about in this terrific post.    i don’t think He’d put up with that kind of “brattiness” any more than she would.  

And if you know me, you know i’m not likely to be bratty.  Lots of other things that are difficult, maybe, but not particularly bratty.   So that’s not the kind of challenge Sir means.

He goes on to say, “Sometimes, your lack of self-confidence, keeping you in tune with your power, can be difficult.”  

And while i’m processing that, He goes on, as if He had not just laid  His finger on some tender part of my soul.

“Whiny-ness would be a problem, that’s not a problem with you, but that would be a problem for me if you were.  Of course, if you are whiny, refocusing your attention on an ass whipping takes care of it, so that’s not so hard to deal with.  It might be different with someone else, but you accept kink very readily – and our sensibilities parallel each others.” 

i listen, and take notes as He’s talking, but part of me is still back there with the thing He said about my lack of self-confidence and keeping me in tune with my power.   

That undoes me.  That’s the thing that makes me want to sit at His feet and take off His shoes, carefully and with love.