Huge and Absolutely Ridiculous Kink...Wait, Is That Even A Kink?

So umm, I've rebuilt myself fairly well, (in my own opinion, of course) however; sub me doesn't really function for shit lately. I guess maybe when you remake so much of your life you just have to take it one piece at a time?

Thing is, I've had a while now lol...

I struggle with writing about D/s in this space these days. Partly because I've been kind of stuck, but mostly because there is always the chance that one day he will drop in and read again.
This...That huge part of me that I explored with him for so long...It was the part of me he shredded the most. And I'd be lying if I said I didn't dread the potential outcome of every chance I take in opening myself back up to that. We became the opposite of the idea of BDSM which stirs my heart body and soul.

But I digress from my original train of thought...

See, I've got this Domme girl. And we've put together a life, and have both rebuilt ourselves from scratch. Together. So I have a safe and healthy space to open the door for the sub. We have been D/s for years to varying extents...We're just...I think that in a way we have both challenged each other greatly as we rebuilt, and falling back into our rhythm has been difficult...

Still digressing from my original train of thought...

All of the above meanderings stemmed from one original musing about something I have identified as a huge, and possibly absolutely ridiculous kink. And is it really even a kink?? I mean, it feels like one lol.
The feeling of safety. Physical, emotional, and spiritual safety. It's a huge turn on. And when when it's coupled with painful or terrifying things with an occasional hint of tenderness? To be tortured, yet secure in being truly treasured...Yea...That. Safety provides for the luxury of true vulnerability, and that is hot as hell to me.

Safety allows for a lowering of defenses, and I have found that it is only in the lowering all of my defenses that I become free to truly experience submission and its dangers to the fullest.

I guess...I need to fly again... To wrestle and succumb to the dragon...I just have to take the leap and believe it won't devour me completely. Or perhaps more accurately, hope that it doesn't chew me up and spit me out. After all, being devoured is itself a huge part of the appeal.

Alpha and Omega

I have censored myself a lot here, for entirely too long...I'd say this post is a pretty official marking of the end of that crap.

I have been avoiding this post for some time. Life's events have completed it for me though, so thought and feeling now finally make their way into print.

I have thought a lot about names used in Blogland and not duplicating those used on other blogs. As much as possible anyways. It's great how the best laid plans like to bite you in the ass and die...
Funny thing is, the Omega to his Alpha was apparently inevitable here.

Names carry a certain degree of importance. The choice to call my husband "Alpha" here originated from the wolf pack--the alpha is top dog. There are of course, other connotations which did not play part in my original choice of the name--Alpha and Omega, the first and last letters of the Greek alphabet. Alpha and Omega, God as the beginning and the end.

Alpha...the beginning, the one, he shaped me, made me what I am today. He is my forever and always. Omega...The ending, the last one to whom I'll ever kneel, the only other one for whom I'll ever feel, the one who appeared along the way. A forever and always as one meant to be in our lives. Alpha's brother from another mother, as they would say back home.
Alpha and Omega, god as beginning and end...Because on my knees, in that moment he is god. Because on my knees in that moment, there is nothing but naked truth, I'll confess my sins and feed the need. Because while I have never knelt to god as a construct, on my knees is where I pray. And in that moment, he/they are Alpha and Omega. Every time.

He needs a name here because, while the offer has been declined, he will be part of our story. Regardless of circumstance or physical events--I will serve him. The form taking perhaps something beyond what we commonly think of, because service is about what the one being served actually needs and desires, and it takes on many forms.
He is part of our story because never has another evoked such trust in either of us, never has another displayed the loyalty and beauty of character, never has another felt as we feel him. He is part of our story because, no matter what, either of us or our children could call him from anywhere at 2 am, and he would be there; because no matter what or where, if he calls at 2 am in need, one of us will be there for him. Always. These are rare and unique truths, applicable only to him.

Somehow I had forgotten how absolutely terrifying it can be, experiencing the compulsion to be honest that being what I am inspires in me. The terrible fucking sense of horror and wrongness when I'm down and feel like I have displeased, been kicked out of that space on my knees...
I had come to accept it, a kind of disconcerting comfort in my reality as Alpha's submissive. To experience those sensations in relation to another though...Especially one with perfection already sitting at his feet? Life is an interesting and strange place.

There have been moments wherein I have found myself supremely comfortable in my own skin, yet...Sometimes I hate it, this part of me that I have no option but to be, the part that finds me on my knees lost in the need to please.
Where I'll pour out my dreams and sins from within, lay my own heart out in the dirt at their fucking feet...How the actual fuck...? It's almost funny, in a fucked up ironic sort of way...Never. Never in a million fucking years would I ever have conceived of having these feelings and compulsions for someone else. And the lucid dreaming? Hmmm...If he hasn't already, surely he's about to decide that I'm bat-shit crazy.

I woke up this morning sure that I was insane. There was a sense of relief, yes--the way their hug felt, the way he squeezed me goodby on his way out the door, the fact that not only had the cards all been placed on the table, they had been seen and acknowledged by all of us. At the same time, what on god's green earth made me feel like I had to say that to him, in front of Alpha no less?

I have said some really difficult shit to Alpha over the years. Things that made me cringe, want to crawl under a rock, or cry. Things after which I thought he'd never love me again. When you have nothing left to hide from another human being, you can be guaranteed that you have said some painful shit.
The most difficult words I ever spoke to him were in that moment on the mountain, as the sun burned off the morning mist, when Alpha made me admit out loud that I had fallen in love with Omega. And yea, it's been a good while since that moment, and that moment had been a good while coming.

The strange thing about speaking the most difficult words of your life? There will be a time when you top that moment. For me, it was telling Omega that I had fallen in love with him. In front of Alpha. The offer had been declined, he has a beautiful girl who is absolutely divine, likely his "one". But I felt it had to be said aloud. By me.
I woke up this morning wondering, "Fucking why??". Who says that shit out loud like that, in circumstances like these, to someone you both consider family and want to have in your lives forever??

Why...? Terrifyingly enough, because that compulsion to honesty is so deeply tied to submission for me that I can't fucking help it. And because it was the only way for him to know for sure...To feel that this was not held against him by Alpha. That moment and the lack of animosity or discomfort they felt between each other proved that nothing could break their bond. In some strange, fucked up, and convoluted way, it was my gift to them. Because they both needed to see that not even this, not even me, could come between them, or break their bond. And that in itself is proof that some relationships, like theirs, are truly unbreakable.

Service is a concept that I have been musing on quite a bit lately, and I have learned a lot. To serve is not about feeding need or desire as the submissive thinks it should be fed. It's about feeding the need or desire as it genuinely is required by the receiving dominant. Sometimes service is pleasure or acceptance of pain. Sometimes service is feeding someone a meal and promising that one will always welcome and look out for someone's "one". Sometimes service is accepting the fact that what is desired and needed comes from another
And so I serve as what I am, offering the compulsions I carry, speaking to god from my knees and offering whatever manner in which I can please.

And so, somehow, to the Alpha and Omega I bend. The beginning and the end.

The playground Upon Which Demons Feed and Hidden Desires Dance

I forgot how to write here. I forgot slowly over time, one step away here, another step there...
And I knew what it meant when we showed her this place, that one day I would sit down to write and pause. Because eventually, they will both read every word drawled across these pages.

A lot has happened since the last time I sat here, words pouring from my fingertips. A lot of reality fucking bites. But that's not why I'm here now. In this moment.

There is a natural ebb and flow to ttwd. We gave a lot to that job. We gave our all for a long time. Sacrifices were made, and one of those sacrifices was living in an ebb of D/s the length and depth of which we have never really fallen into before.

She said something that hurt my feelings. I should have gone to her about it, but I didn't. I balled up and shut out. I lost my words and retreated in silence. More than a little lost and confused...

And I once again realized something intricately entwined yet completely unrelated--this place, this slut, this sub, this slave...This is me. I am who I am. He feeds the dark twisted parts of me that crave to be alive, to be explored in the night, all the twisted little kinks and fantasies...The darkness is a part of our bond.

I was kind of pissed off that I didn't write this because I could have. Verbatim. But I love it. And I sent it to him. Because this is a huge part of who him and I are together.

He fed me tequila and took me out.
And there was more tequila.
He mind-fucked me until I couldn't see straight.
Then he did it some more.
He did a number on my mind, that took me a day to come back from. Dunno, maybe I still am three days later.
He turned me upside down and inside fucking out.

She has shown me that there is a space for me that is not subspace. That passion can be gentle and kind and still consuming. Fucking amazing.
Still I know by the look in her eyes when she half whispers about an urge to be violent with me, there is always that in me which desires to feed the beast, to be the playground upon which demons feed and hidden desires dance.

While she has offered very little judgement, there is a discomfort with his ownership of me, and some days I feel a bit bipolar bouncing between them like a ping pong ball. And some days I know that my life is fuller of real living, of really being me, than it has in a very long time.

I am, without a doubt, rather lost. I have payed some fines at a very high cost. I have given all and walked away from a lot this year. I have refused to live on my knees to a corporate entity, and the price of walking away from it is high. But there is only one way in which I desire to live on my knees, and that was not it.

This has been one hell of a year.

I have fallen in love with a woman.
I have helped build a business which would not have existed without me.
I have worked the kind of hours which did not allow me to see the light of day.
I have inspired and cried.
I have refused to be the mouth which expresses only the beliefs of upper management.
I have been demoted for being...Me.
I have made CEO's cry.
I have walked away from the closest thing to a real career that I have ever known
on the basis of where I draw the line as a human being,
how I can sleep with myself at night,
on the basis of who is there to stand up for those who had no other voice to speak for them.
For her.

No longer there, but still here.

How to Make Someone Dominant or Submissive

I get a lot of visits from searches based on "how to make (insert person and characteristic here)". I get it. People want their husband or wife to be dominant or submissive, and they are looking for ways to make those desires a reality. I get it. Really, I do--there is need, and needs always want to feed.

The thing is...It always makes me sigh. You can make people do things, and yes, over time you can even mold someone into something they previously may not have been. Dominants are made over time. Experience shapes their approach, refines their methods, defines who they decide to be as dominants. Submissives are shaped and molded one step a a time over the course of a relationship, a little bend here, a nudge there, sometimes so subtle that we aren't even aware of the changes until something calls our attention to the fact that our reaction is different than it was before.

Yes, people change other people. Yet...You cannot force someone to become something that they aren't, in some shape or form, already.

I think that sometimes we are unhappy, and our first choice is often to look outside of ourselves at the people we are with to try and make them into what we believe will make us happy. The interesting thing about changing someone we love, I mean really making them into something they are not, has the terrible potential to create something we no longer love.
One of the things Alpha and I have fought most about in our time together is his sense of loyalty--how far he will let another person go, how much shit he will take, how forgiving he is willing to be of those that do not return his loyalties; of those who, for whatever reason, he deems worthy of his loyalty. He is solid and immovable in this. Once won, his loyalty is non-negotiable, unconditional, and comes with no strings attached. Sometimes this absolutely infuriates me. Because people are assholes. And, why? I mean, after all--assholes.
At the same time...His sense of ridiculously unshakeable loyalty is one of the things that I love most about him. If I had been able to change that, to make him into something he is not, he would not be the man that he is. He would not be the man that I fall in love with just a little bit more each day. Because he would no longer be himself.

I'm not saying that trying to makes someone dominant or submissive is exactly the same, and things work out differently if it turns out we are just helping someone become what they already are; however, what about ourselves? If we want our significant other to be dominant, are we truly willing to be the counterpart to that, so submit, to surrender to their will? Conversely, if we want our other half to be submissive, to surrender their all, can we become the dominant, the last call, the final say, the one who carries the weight of that responsibility? And if we are successful in bringing about these changes, will we still love what they have become?
All too often, I don't think that people ask themselves these questions. If we want to change someone else, we have to start by asking ourselves if we can be what they need should such changes occur. One must be careful when attempting to change that which they love, because the caterpillar turns into a butterfly and we will have to accept what they become with the knowledge that we asked for their metamorphosis.

We can help someone to become what they truly are, but we cannot make them be something they are not. And if we are asking them to become something which, by nature, requires a counterpart, we had better be damn sure of our ability to feed the beast we help to create. Because we are all so much more than the sum of our parts.

Lines

While I have acknowledged that there are some key definitive differences between slavery and submission, for me they are so intertwined as to have become interchangeable forms of expression...

So often we circle back to the fact that if I'm drawing the line anywhere, we are not what we believe ourselves to be. Because that's just not how this works for us.
It's those things really...The things where I want to pull up short, draw the line in the sand, and exert my nonexistent veto power. Those are the things that define my slavery. Surrendering regardless of the doubt, the distaste, the overwhelming desire not to.

It is easy, is it not? To submit to that which one finds pleasing and appealing. That is not, however, what I believe slavery to be. Yes, there are times when I am more than willing, wanting, needing, desiring. The flow is...Easy. It is those edges I pull up short on though, those places I do not want to go, the experiences that make me cringe, those are the things which feed the junky in me. No choices to make, no options offered or allowed, being forced into that which I either abhor or want desperately to pretend is against what I desire...

Truly, to me, slavery is defined in that one small sentence--it is about one's willingness to accept things which one is absolutely unwilling to experience. The knowledge that I will be shattered into a million tiny pieces, carefully collected, and put back together again. Each piece treated like a fragile scrap of glass to be gathered with the utmost care...

Our arrangement is based on core agreements that I will not renege on, nor do I wish to revoke them.

Ultimately, I will accept anything he asks of me. He will draw my lines in the sand, define the places I will not go, the things I will not do, and make he determination of what is too much or not enough. Some people will think it's wrong, others that it is not actually possible.

The thing is, in the end, he has always been better than me at weighing my discomfort against actual harm.I have a thousand tiny scars accumulated in a very short span of time before he came into my life. When weighing my personal desires against their ability to damage me, well, I don't actually do that and I never really have. He does.

He tells me that everyone has a box full of darkness, and it's a privilege to be allowed to see inside. Our boxes of darkness belong to us, and no one is obligated to let another look inside. He explores mine carefully with unfettered access, stepping gently in the absence of light without offering judgement on the shadows. He opens his own and invites me to cast a glance inside. All that he asks is that I return the favor and not pass judgement on his demons.

Realizations

I found myself watching the trailer for 50 Shades of Grey last night, and I had a few thoughts.

For one, why are all these people so friggin young? I mean, does he even have a driver's license? I'm sorry, but if someone like that tried to dominate me, I think I might laugh at him...

And what's with the, "I had a messed up childhood, I don't do romance" bit? Lots of us had fucked up childhoods--sounds kind of like an implication that he's the way he is because he was ruined as a child (and yes, if I had bothered to read the books, I would probably already know the answer to my assumptions).

That contradictory little part of me wants to see the movie just because of the general outcry about how people shouldn't watch it. No doubt I'll watch it eventually...While he sits there and smirks, pouring out a plethora of inappropriate and annoyingly funny comments until he can't take it anymore and goes to do something else. I'm betting on ten minutes...

Anyways, I should probably stop talking disparagingly about something I've neither read nor seen. Lol.

I realized something though. Who we are, the things I have been so desperately running away from, him and the way he is...My life, what we have, our reality...Is someone elses fantasy. Hell, it's my fantasy (minus the migraines and debt, of course).

He says that I am wasting time, too much effort put into pretending to be something I'm not. He thinks that I'm a firecracker with the soul of a slave, wrapped up in a pretty package...

I do know that if I didn't have what we have, if he wasn't who he is, if he was not my master and I were not his slave, I would live a life unfulfilled--dreaming only of the fantasy that is my reality.

Why D/s?

In one of my last posts, I put a picture up which said "You are free to choose, but you are not free from the consequences of your choices".
I've been thinking about that, and I wonder if it doesn't always hold true. Sure, we are responsible for the consequences of our choices, but are we really free to choose our needs? I don't think we are. I mean, to a certain extent we choose our circumstances which often tend to dictate our needs, but I don't think one can just choose not to need D/s...I mean, one can choose to live without it, but that doesn't mean there will be no need, no itch below the surface, no space where it once existed...

What is it about D/s? What makes it magnetic, alluring, so entirely consuming? Why D/s?

I think, no, I know, it makes me feel alive. It evokes sensations and feelings which come to me from no other experience. And even now, in this place where I think I'm living without it, he is quick to point out that such is not the case. I still automatically follow old patterns--sitting on the floor, deferring to his choices, needing his approval...The list goes on and on.

It's silly really, to think I could be anything else. But sometimes I do think that. Maybe it's safer that way? Submission is vulnerability, and maybe sometimes it's easier to wrap that vulnerability up and tuck it away, to hide it even from myself. D/s makes me feel, I mean, really feel. Perhaps sometimes it's easier to avoid that feeling than it is to drown in it. The easy way way out maybe, the lazy path...

The thing is, that's not really living is it, to wander around avoiding the things that make you feel alive?

Nasty Truths

I had a dream last night...He was with someone else.
I don't even remember the dream, just the intensely overwhelming, soul crushing jealousy...It sucked.

A while back, I admitted (here in print no less, to be forever etched in some little corner of the internet) that I was incapable of truly having a romantic/intimate relationship without D/s.
It was one thing to admit it--a little bit brave, a little bit scary, a somewhat uncomplimentary feeling. It was admitting that I have a line in the sand which will always be redrawn, whether I like it or not.
It's another thing though, to now be in a place where I no longer desire D/s, no longer crave it, no longer live it. And face the fact that my past admittance holds true--I am truly incapable of any real form of romantic intimacy without Dominance and submission.

Yet here I sit. With absolutely no desire to resume the workings of D/s, no craving or need for the sensations which come with slavery, no intention of slipping back into the roles we held for so long.

The thing is...I'm married.
In a relationship which, by its very nature requires romantic intimacy.
Forever.

And right now? We aren't good. Not really.

Needing the Need

The knife slides its way down treacherous body, slowly tracing lines like marks in the sand to be washed away by the glory of insatiable waves.

"You know you need it" he whispers as he leans over me.

I shake my head in disagreement fighting to hold on to what little shreds of sanity I have left. Even as my traitorous body betrays me, arching towards the sharp.

Why is it always the sharpest edges which have the greatest pull, the darkest ideas that shine the brightest in the shadows of night, the most dangerous distractions which call the loudest?

As the tears trickle down my face, in unwanted release, he tells me that I need it, and that "Some of us just need to be needed". And I realized something obvious, something basic, something which has been written in neon ink for ages--he needs my need. That's what he gets out of this whole arrangement. Beyond the obvious perks of service, and getting his way when he wants it.

My need feeds his being in some way. It fans the flames of who he is and solidifies the role he sees himself playing in this game of life. Who knew?

His hands, so large for their delicate touch, trace the tears across my cheeks as I finally admit to the lonely--I don't want to be needy and lonely!
"Oh baby, did you really think you wouldn't miss it? You've lived there your whole life. Of course you were going to miss it. 
This. Being mine. Being owned by me. You need it. And I need your need."

Cake, Icing, and Other Strange Ramblings

For once, this post isn't actually about cake. Or icing. Well, not the real kinds anyways.

I think that I'm about to contradict myself twice in one post. Not the small sort of contradictions that you sweep under the rug before anybody notices either.

Did I mention that it's going to happen more than once all in one post? Coffee. Coffee is important here.

So...I have stated more than once that we will always be a happily married couple, with or without D/s.

After some deep introspection inspired by my longest "off" phase in the history of our dynamic, I realized that's bullshit.
For me, there's never going to be any kind of real "we" without D/s. With anybody. And by real, I mean the kind of love that makes your heart flutter every time you see someone; there would be no passion, no intimacy. And probably a sad lack of respect on my part. For me, D/s is passion and intimacy. I don't know how to feel true passion without it. And intimacy...Well, there's nothing quite as intimate as having someone crawl around in your mind and take over your body, is there?

My sexuality is inherently and completely wrapped up in Dominance and submission. Without D/s...

Dominance inspires feelings in me that I seem to be otherwise incapable of experiencing. Maybe those feelings of passion and intimacy are normal for those less fucked in the head most people,but I don't feel them if I don't feel Dominated. If I am not submissive.

I have also said that D/s is like the icing on the cake, but it isn't really just the icing on the cake. Cake is good with or without icing.
When you make a layered cake, you put a dab of icing on the platter under the bottom layer of cake. Just a smidgen. Without that tiny bit of icing, the cake slides around when you go to put the next layer on, and is far less stable.
That little, seemingly insignificant dab of icing makes all the other layers possible, and keeps the cake from falling to the floor (yes, I realize that some of us are more prone to dropping things than others. Lets not point fingers. Ahem).
And the layers...humanity is made of layers, D/s is created out of layers on top of layers--icing holds the layers together.

So maybe I won't contradict myself too much with this one--perhaps D/s really is like icing. But not just the icing on top. Oh no...

A Question of the Difficulties Surrounding D/s and Kids

Here's my response to the last question from Foxy Canidae. I did say that I was going to drag them out as much as possible...

"What is the hardest thing for you when it comes to TTWD and having kids?"

Hmm...

I would have to say the lack of private time. Our arrangement came into being after our first child, so our D/s has always existed within the constraints of parenthood.

The day-to-day parenting decisions are left to me, and while we always discuss our options, the big final decisions involving them are usually left up to me.
Having boys, I used to worry that the obvious overtones of dad getting the final say in damn near everything would make them into those terrible men who think that they get to do whatever they want because they're men.

The thing is...Mom runs a tight ship, and dad always backs mom up. They know that I'm the one they will have to convince if they want something--I'm the chore and extra cookie authority around here.
Interestingly enough, they have about as much disdain as I do for anyone who seems to consider themselves superior to anyone else, so I don't worry about that anymore.

I think I got sidetracked...

The hardest thing is simply time.
Time to play.
Time to express just that part of us.
Time to ignore reality and just...Be that.

A Question of Advice for Beginners

Another question from Foxy Canidae:

"What advice would you give to someone just entering this lifestyle?"

Ooh geez, lots. Lol. I suggest coffee. Maybe more than one cup. This is likely to get long-winded and out of hand.

I guess that first and foremost, it would be not to care too much about how other people do it. I know that this might make the rest of my thoughts kind of a moot point, but...

In the beginning, its really easy to get caught up in "The right way", which is usually just modeled off of what we have read and seen--because not having our own past experiences to rely on, we look to the experience of others. Now don't get me wrong, there's definitely something to be said for watching the rest of us screw up and knowing better learning from the mistakes and knowledge offered by others; however, it is not necessary to use the framework set forth by someone else in order to have a healthy and successful D/s relationship.
It can be awfully difficult to remember that what we read is a snapshot--a picture of a moment in time or a thought process shared by the writer. Not everyone is willing to dump their mistakes and bad days out onto the internet for consumption by the general public. So before you decide that your brand of D/s sucks monkey butts, (sometimes it will. Promise--happens to all of us) remind yourself that people tend to share the times of smooth sailing quite a bit more often than they highlight the choppy seas.

Be honest. Be honest with yourself, and be honest with your partner. If you're not honest with yourself, you can't be honest with them. And if you're not honest with them, you either aren't going to make it very far down this road, or you are going to put yourself in a situation where you get hurt because the other person doesn't have enough pieces of the puzzle to help put you back together if things go awry.

Take it slow--the world is not going to end because you didn't do/get/experience it all yesterday. Seriously. Take your time. Chances are, you won't be dying tomorrow, and it is far better to work your way slowly towards something wonderful than it is to rush headlong into a disaster of your own making. You cannot go back and undo what has been done, but you can give it a damn fine go the first time around if you move slowly enough to do so.

Blanket advice aside, I admit that I would probably give Dominants a little bit different advice than I would to a submissive. Because yea, different ends of the power spectrum.

To a Dominant, I would say remember that you are not omnipotent. There will no doubt be times when you will feel that way, and your submissive will certainly view you that way more often than not, but...In the grand scheme of things, you are not.
You will make mistakes--to err is human, and you are still human. What really matters is what you do with your mistakes. Own them, admit that you were wrong, don't repeat them, and if warranted, don't be afraid to apologize for them.

If you want your sub to live up to your expectations, you have to give her the tools to do so, and accept that you must both work within the rules of reality. For instance, you can't expect to be met naked at the door every day if there are kids in the house. It's just not feasible. The examples could be many, but it boils down to the fact that you cannot expect someone to submit to you if you are unwilling to do some work for it and adapt to the constraints of life in general.

Be consistent. Seriously, I can't stress this one enough. Consistency earns respect and provides a submissive the framework within which to exist. You can't expect anyone to do what you tell them to if your expectations and the consequences of their actions are inconsistent. Plus, we're finicky creatures and consistency makes us feel special and stable. It shows us that you care.

Let her feel what she feels, and share how she feels. You are working your way through the inside of a human mind with a heart attached. If you want unfettered access, your sub has to know without a doubt that she can tell you anything--otherwise you'll never make it past the outer walls of her mind. If she can't share the most twisted, darkest, angriest, saddest, parts of herself, you won't ever truly own her.

If you want her body to be your playground, you have to get through her mind first. Wonderful and terrible things can happen to the human body and never touch the mind, never reach the soul, never impact the heart. If you want to well and truly own another being, you aren't going to get there through what you do to their body alone. If you can touch her mind, she is more yours than touching her body could ever make her be.
That's not to say that the two don't often go hand-in-hand, but they are not certainly not mutually exclusive.

And lastly? Yea...It's pretty simple--just don't be an asshole.

To a submissive I would say, remember that he's human too. At the core of ourselves, we're all just human beings being human. Yes, you are putting your life in the hands of a mere mortal. There are consequences to that, and they aren't always pretty. Accept it. Get over it. Don't hold his mistakes over his head.

Don't push him to do things your way. While it is important to acknowledge and be honest about your needs and wants, D/s is intrinsically not about getting your way--it's about doing things his way, having the faith to trust someone else to make the right call, and the wherewithal to suck it up when a call you disagree with is made.

Don't expect him to be Dominant if you are busy running around questioning every decision he makes--Domination becomes ridiculously more complicated and difficult when it's constantly being challenged.
Really, expectation in general is not your friend--it makes us too caught up in how we think things should be as opposed to living how he thinks we should. If we are always too busy with our own expectations, there isn't room for his. And, after all, D/s isn't really about what we want.

If you want him to know what makes you tick, what really and take advantage of it, you have to let down the walls. Let him in. Not the superficial way we let people in, that's not going to get him there. But the way your skeletons know you--the scars that make you who you are, the things that are hard to love about yourself, the desires you hate admitting to yourself.

Submit. Sounds pretty basic, kind of like not being an asshole, right? But it's not always so simple. D/s is a cyclical reciprocal arrangement, and if you want Domination, you must offer submission. It's easy to submit to the things we want, not so easy when every bone in our body is screaming about how badly we don't want to do it. I think that, quite often, submission is very much about the things you don't want to do. And doing them anyways.

I'm sure that I'll think of a million more things tonight at midnight, but there you have it.

A Willful Disregard of Sense, or, Who's Really in Charge Around Here?

Okay okay, I admit that the catchy part of the title isn't mine. The first part of it was a gift. Don't judge!

Anyways...

A comment made on one of my posts some time ago, got me to thinking of that seemingly never-ending debate about whose really in charge of a D/s relationship. Seems like kind of a no-brainer to me, but hey--I'm almost always up for a good debate. Best thing about debating myself in a blog post? I'm always right (until I start talking to him, but that comes later).

Honestly, it seems silly to me, this concept that the submissive is really in charge. I have heard it argued that the only reason people on my side of power exchange tend to rail against the aforementioned concept, is that we simply aren't comfortable with the "reality" that we are in charge because we can withdraw consent. As if the Dominant is somehow incapable of calling an end to it himself.
What a load of poppycock. I have been itching to use that word for ages.

Seriously, if I'm really in charge, what exactly is the point of ttwd?

If I am really in charge, then this whole way of living is nothing more than an elaborate lie I tell myself every day, a hoax that I perpetrate upon myself and my relationship over and over again...

I wonder why, why really do some people have this idea that the sub is actually in charge? My personal theory at the moment, is that some Dominants are not comfortable with a certain level of control, and some subs are not comfortable with a certain depth of submission. No scientific studies have been created to prove or disprove this theory.

So I did what I always do when mulling over a particular quandary--I asked Alpha for his thoughts.

He shrugged because those things that go round and round in my head are usually just of passing and philosophical interest to him. "Because they're doing it wrong." I couldn't help myself, "Oh babe, they're not gonna like that." His response made it quite clear that the idea didn't bother him in the least little bit.

His point was, if a submissive feels like she can walk away at any moment, she hasn't really surrendered in the first place. Now don't get me wrong, we both acknowledge that there are many circumstances in which it is neither desirable, nor wise, to surrender to the point where you feel you cannot walk away. As always, it is about context, and my opinions come from within the context of my marriage and an M/s dynamic.

There may have been just the slightest hint of whine in my voice when I said, "I'm stuck on my post! I need a logical argument to support my opinion..." He really didn't seem to be the least little bit bothered by my quandary. He shrugged, again, (see a running theme here?)and said, "Lots of times, the sub is in charge."
Say what...? "That's not helping me provide a logical argument! Though I suppose I should appreciate that you're finally taking my quandary seriously...But still!" Why is it that the things I get all worked up about phase him so little??
"If a sub is only 97% in, she's in charge." Only 97% huh? Okay, now he's just raining on my parade...

And so the post sat all day, while I did my thing and wandered back occasionally to stare at what had become an  exceedingly uninspiring page.
This morning it hit me, maybe that's where I draw the line defining slavery and submission for myself personally--when I question what I am is when I'm desperately reaching for that tiny percentage which I gave up years ago. This might sound totally silly, but it was one of those light-bulb moments for me, and with only half a cup of coffee too!

So the answer to who's really in charge around here, is clearly him. But I guess that answer is kind of dependent on whose "here" one is talking about. Odd how concepts evolve over the course of a thought process...

The thing is...D/s is a choice. It is a conscious decision to bow to the authority of another human being, to surrender one's will to that of another, to hand over control to someone else.
Once the choice is made, to live D/s, to be a submissive or a slave, not just to act like one, you have to be all in.
Getting out is not quite as simple as just choosing not to be what you have become. Once you taste it, live it, become it, float on its waves...It gets into your blood, becomes part of who you are, and denying it will haunt you in ways that you never imagined.
In a way, you become enslaved, not just to the Master, but to the concept itself.

Filling the Void

I was writing something totally unrelated to the blog, and in my easily distracted way, I had to run over and start a post. Because yea...Butterflies and sparkly things.

I think that D/s fills voids. You know, those little cracks that life seems to leave in one's being? Yea, those.
I think that we either seek out D/s to fill the void, or discover down the road that it in some way fulfills the function of doing so.

The truth is, we are all at least a little bit broken. That's what life does to us, how we form our character, it is a huge part of what makes us who we are. We're always searching for some way to patch the cracks, even if we don't know why, what we're looking for, or indeed sometimes that we are searching in the first place.

Humans are a bit like bowls--we hold everything that has been put in us, and there's no way to be scrubbed clean while we are full. It might seem like a bit of a dichotomy to say that we have voids and cracks, but are full at the same time. Yet...perhaps the cracks are the voids.

D/s has a way of breaking open the cracks so the dirt can fall out and we can be put back together with gold. I used to try and wash away the filth of the things that had happened to me, and fill the cracks with anything I could find. Our D/s has washed me out and patched me back together.

Maybe that's one of the reasons that subs often crave the "Breaking". Because we feel that if D/s broke it, D/s will fill the cracks it created. Then, instead of being shattered beyond repair, we are held together by something beautiful. And we become something more than what we were before.

D/s is Not an Exception to the Rules of Reality

It's glorious, isn't it? Those first moments when you discover D/s and you devour every bit of information you can find, every story, experience, word, idea, and picture...
It's a land of hidden fantasies come true, you realize that's what you are and who you were meant to be. You want it as your reality, so you immerse yourself in the fantasy...

Of course, the main drawback to fantasy is that reality will always eventually intrude. And, as is the nature of reality, said intrusion can be quite rude. It is, however, completely necessary if you want to live D/s. The rest of your life exists in reality, and ttwd is going to be no exception.

Go ahead and immerse yourself in the waters of fantasy. We all do it sometimes--those are some pretty awesome waves out there. But out here in the reality of the ocean? Some of those waves will knock you on your ass.

I was roaming around today, and found an old post elsewhere quoting one of my posts from several years ago...

"Do I need Dominance to inspire my submission? Yes. I'm like an addict and I want my fix. But I also feel like that fix should come from submission itself--not necessarily just from dominance.
Being picky with submission doesn't work. That's not what it's about. If he was how I wanted him to be all the time, and only did what I wanted, then it wouldn't really be D/s at all."

Now isn't it just a bitch when your own sensible conclusions jump out at you randomly? I can't even get away from them by going somewhere else!

The truth is, if you want to float on the highs, you have to pass through the lows--if your going to live it with another human being. Every single day, with no off switch, no "visiting", and no meetings of convenience, then you're not going to be on top of the world every day. That's just not how life works.

About sums it up...

As challenging as it can be to accept the difficulties which come with being a human who lives their reality with another human, those times make the fantasies which turn into reality that much sweeter.

What I Think I am is of Little Consequence...

We talked...A little. Because yea--as malfunctioning as my brain-to-mouth filter often shows itself to be, all communicative functions seem to seize up like the computer blue screen of death when it comes to these kinds of conversations.

I'm covered in permanent marker. Among the variations of "Mine" is "Deal with it". Okay then.

Apparently, what I think I am, (or am not) is of little consequence because I am as he defines me.

I want to thank everyone for their thoughtful comments on my last post--I will try to respond to them all. At some point...

There is an ebb and flow to everything in life, and D/s is no exception to that rule. For us, the flow quite often outweighs the ebb, and our "Down times" are usually much shorter than our recent experience has been. Of course, the recent track our lives have taken is new to us as well. This has made it much more difficult for me to reason my way through, and apply the rules of logic with which I am in a semi-constant state of war anyways.

On one hand, every relationship is a two-way street. One the other hand, the parameters of our relationship dictate that those streets are not equal, nor are they necessarily even running in the same direction. Or, to put it in a way that might actually make sense, it doesn't really work both ways. So, while we do both have our shoes to fill, our responsibilities are not the same, our desires are not equal, and what we expect to get out of our interactions can sometimes differ rather vastly.

As difficult as it may be to accept at times, ttwd is not about my expectations or what I hope to get out of it. It's not about what I think I am, or what I think he should be.

I have always felt very strongly that the approach of needing him to "Work for it" was not how I wanted to be as a submissive. Submission/slavery is not a conditional concept for us. This is not a "I will submit if you do xyz" arrangement. In other words, it's his way all the way, regardless of the direction--if it's no play and checking the mail before making cookies at 10:00 at night, then that is what M/s is for us.
That said, to function at my best as his slave, I do need some reinforcement from him; however, regardless of my level of functioning, I am his property and always will be

He says that we will always be some form of this, that I cannot simply decide what I am or am not--because there's no changing what I am at the core of my being, or what we are at the root of our relationship.

These mountains bumps in the road, while they may lead to the occasional identity crisis on my part, by no means signal the end of our arrangement. We are an M/s couple, and will always live D/s in one form or another. It is how we are wired, and how our relationship functions best. Even when our arrangement wobbles, it will still remain.

Wtf is D/s Anyways?

I sat and stared at this blank page over the course of a 1/4 cup of coffee. After reading some truly laughable article on, "What is Dominance and submission?" and making it through another 1/4 cup of coffee, I came back and stared some more.

I wanted to say that I've been living a dilusion, but the English language seems to think that such is not possible, and maybe I'm really just delusional. Dill is a nice spice though...

Well, made it thought more coffee, but the words are still not really forming...

A long time ago, I wrote a post about that space where I felt like I could tell him anything, and no matter what it was, it was okay. I'm too lazy to dig it back out, and I don't really care exactly what it said, but I feel like somewhere along the way, we lost that.
Oh, he asks me what is going on with me, but oftentimes I feel like it's like a trick question, a question with one right answer, and if he finds my response not to his liking, at best it's met with a, "Whatever" as he walks away, and at worst, it starts an argument. Like my emotions are only acceptable if they fall in line with how he thinks I should be feeling. And since when have my emotions necessarily been reasonable?
I am required to tell him how I'm feeling, but it suck when he doesn't like those feelings.

I'm not a slave. I'm not sure what I am any more. I mean, I know that I'm human and as such am many things, but slave...? Dunno. Maybe I was at some point. Perhaps. Or maybe I just thought I was because that is what I wanted to be, what he told me I was, what I thought resonated in my soul.

Wtf is Dominance and submission anyways? Is it when someone tells another person what to do in their daily lives and they do it? Even that, at it's most basic, is not how we've been living. He tells me what to do, I object or ignore him, he says "Whatever" and the days go on.
Is it that consuming experience of power exchange, wherein the will of one partner bends to the will of the other? Sure, I'll eventually bend, do what he wants, and submit on the surface, but my will stands there in the background stomping her obstinate little feet (okay, so maybe I don't have little feet, but gimme some leeway here).
Maybe it's as simple as being tied up and beaten.
Dunno anymore. But I do know that none of that has been happening around here.

He wants me to do what he says, fuck me when he wants, and cane the shit out of me after he's had enough of my disobedience. Sounds d/s-ish enough, right?
I guess "play" is not an absolutely necessary component to ttwd...Not really. It's icing on a cake that can exist without icing. I mean, it's still cake, right?
I can't remember the last time I felt rope tugging against my skin, a knife tracing its way across my body, that feeling of drowning in subspace that comes only with losing oneself in the will of another...And I suppose that if one has a D/s relationship which is not based in the bedroom, those things aren't exactly necessary...But they damn sure do help a girl keep her head space in its place.

I'm almost to the end of my coffee, and being able to see the bottom of the cup doesn't seem to be making anything clearer.
I miss...Feeling like he accepts whatever I might be feeling, (no matter how stupid or reasonable it may be) regardless of what he does with those feelings--except for reacting as if they are completely unreasonable and unfounded. I feel like...A D/s inconvenience.

I am well aware that I'm no shining beacon of submission, especially these days. He seems to think that it's all me, and maybe he's right. But...

Questions of Emotion and Emotional Needs

Downunder Don was kind enough to send me some thought provoking questions.
So, with no further ado and introductory blathering on my part (difficult to imagine, I know), in order of appearance:

"In your D/s relationship are you able to express your emotional needs/requirements."

For his part, I am...Required to express my emotional needs; however, expressing my emotional needs is extremely difficult for me. He is very good at reading me, so my consistent occasional inability to express those needs in a valid manner doesn't usually create issues.

Any inability to express my emotional needs is purely personal. I couldn't imagine being in any form of a relationship where it was not acceptable to express one's emotional needs and requirements--while I accept that how he addresses those needs is entirely his prerogative, I think that being allowed to express valid emotional needs/requirements is necessary for the healthy functioning of any relationship.

"Are you permitted to show your emotions."

Ah, well...I have some hormonal issues which contribute to me being an excessively emotional person at times. I think that, if I was not permitted to show my emotions, I might possibly just explode into a million pieces (seriously, that is how it feels sometimes). He knows this about me, and gives me a fair amount of leeway when it comes to such expression.

It should be noted that there is a difference between showing the emotions of how I am feeling, and being disrespectful. He takes issue if I express them in a manner that is lacking in respect.

In my mind, D/s and M/s are very much about emotion. If I am not allowed to express emotion, then he not only doesn't get the satisfaction of knowing the success of his actions, he doesn't have a basis for knowing what is going on with me.

"Are you permitted to question his actions if they are in conflict with your emotional needs/requirements."

This one is kind of tricky..If I see his actions as being in conflict with my emotional needs/requirements (which is rare), I am permitted to question his actions. He does, however, expect any questioning of his actions to be valid. There are also times when he disagrees with what I perceive as needs, viewing them as wants, in which case he is likely to set aside my concerns and continue on the path that he feels is best. In all fairness, he has yet to be wrong on this front.

"Are you permitted to “stop” or “withdraw consent” if any action is in conflict with your current emotional state."

The short and sweet answer to this question is no, I am not.There is no "stopping" or "withdrawal of consent" in our arrangement. I mean, yes, I can say "no more" or "I quit" to my little hearts content, but there is no requirement or expectation that he honor the request.

For us, consent is a past tense.Yes, submission is often a constant choice every day, but consent? Consent was given, and there is an overall agreement that it will not be withdrawn or reconsidered regardless of circumstances.

He is generally very aware of my emotional state, and he takes it into account in regards to his actions. There are times when I object, he ignores the objection, and his course was correct. Or, at the least, not nearly as catastrophic as I had thought it would be.

"Are your emotional needs being met in your D/s relationship."
Overall, yes. The D/s aspect of my relationship meets my emotional needs in a way that no other form of relationship ever could. I think that, in order for any relationship to be successful, the emotional needs of both partner must be met. There are occasions when I do feel like my emotional needs aren't being met, but those are often due to life circumstances that take the focus away from D/s.
My observations have led me to believe that many people find themselves in D/s relationships as the result of a search for fulfillment of needs (emotional or otherwise) that they just can't seem to find anywhere else.
Humans are emotional creatures, and I think that we often find ourselves seeking interactions that feed our needs.

Thank you for the thought provoking inspirations. I hope that I did them justice.

The Downward Spiral

I feel like we never really bounced all of the way back from that couple of months I spent with my mom. Well, I never really bounced back. I went through  period of intensely craving structure, control, that overwhelming feeling of being owned...Then life set in.
Things just kept getting busier and crazier, he didn't have time, or energy, or...Then I got busy too, really busy, and we were both working until midnight, and all day on his days off...

We've been here before, I think most of us have. Life has it cycles of ups and downs, and so does D/s. It's just...This time, it's been a really long time. And if all goes well, things won't be calming down anytime soon, quite the opposite, in fact.

Our D/s is intrinsically wrapped up in sex. I have no sex drive. Zilch, zero, nada (you get the picture). Since, oh, April? Whether or not I feel sexy has a lot to do with my sex drive, and I've moved way past the sexy librarian stage onto, "I'm gonna live paperwork in my pj's" (not the sexy kind either. The paperwork or the pj's).

My desire to be controlled also seems to have gone the way of the dinosaurs. I don't want to be that woman who doesn't submit because she needs to feel Dominated to do so. I don't want to have the, "Well, if your not gonna_____, then I'm not gonna_____." approach to ttwd. I think it's a crappy, selfish approach that minimizes the depths of submission. Maybe I'm just not there yet (slow learner and all).

It's hard to climb up out of a downward spiral when one seems to have completely lost the desire to do so though...

The World Stopped

As he grabbed my throat to counter the resistance which I could not help but to give, and brought the water to my face, I had a long moment of new-found panic. The struggle did no good, and my desperate attempts at escape ended with me in the corner of the shower on my toes, gasping for air through the waves of water...Until he was done. Until he allowed me to breathe and released me...

When I saw the cane, I grabbed my pillow. As if clutching it desperately and scrambling across the bed into the corner would somehow save me from what was to come.

I tried to beg out, but he would have none of it.

By eight, I was sure that he was going to ten, (because he seems to like round numbers) and I knew that I couldn't possibly handle it.

When the words, "Eleven. Thank you Master, may I please have another?" slid past my lips, I knew he was going to twenty. Twenty was going to be twelve more than I could handle.

He stopped at thirteen. Somewhere in the haze, my brain registered a slightly disconnected surprise at the odd number. I was too grateful for the fact that it was over to offer any comments.

At some point, he asked me why I was so far away. My response was that I just couldn't come back. It had been too long.

"Silly girl, you haven't left. You can't. That's not the way this works." He whispered, as he shoved my face into the bed and entered me from behind.

At one point he asked me what was up with me lately. It's this underhanded thing he does when he knows that I can barely speak and my brain is mush. "I need more upkeep", was my honest response. In my endorphin fueled haze, I found myself wondering about the validity of "upkeep", was it really a word...?

It didn't matter. Because after a certain point, words become meaningless, and I realize that thought is an abstract and distant experience without form.

For just a little while, he made the world stop. And I went to sleep, not arguing with the daily demons in my mind, but hearing his voice growling quietly in my head, "Mine. Always Mine."