Graceful Acceptance

It's something that I have worked hard on over the years. Of course, there is evidence, (in print no less) that demonstrates numerous failings of my efforts at graceful acceptance.

He looked so totally overwhelmed this morning, that I felt kind of bad for getting so frustrated yesterday. On the bright side, I let all my frustrations out on the blog, not him. That counts for something, right?
Though, I have always felt that there's this fine line between displaying real feelings, and public disrespect. Of course, there's not really a whole lot of options for venting, you know. I can't exactly call my mom up and complain about this whole slave thing and his procrastination...That would go over super well.

Anyways...

Sometimes I find it odd, the circumstances in which I find myself able and not able to display graceful acceptance. In the beginning, I thought it would be the kinky stuff, the stuff that had to do with my body. Rules about what I wore, where I went, who I talked to...

Silly, silly girl.

Very rarely is it ever any of those things. It's usually the nitty gritty day-to-day life stuff. It's the sick kids, the work schedule, procrastination and demand, checking the mail and paying the bills. It's having to help him with work, always on his schedule regardless of mine, because it's his work. It's those moments when I disagree with the decisions he makes.

Graceful acceptance, it's a beautiful thing. I strive for it, practice it as best I can, and so often fall short. I think it's an important ability for a slave to have. Even now though, after all these years, I still struggle with my search for grace.

Privacy and a Moment of Grace

Privacy. I have none.
Well, sometimes I do when he decides I do, but I don't have expectations of privacy when it comes to Alpha. I guess you could say that my privacy is dependent on his mood.
He says that I would be sad if I had privacy, and maybe he's right--I like that he has enough interest to not allow it.

As he was leading me to the bathroom last night, I was complaining about this whole privacy thing. Well, in all fairness, I was complaining about the lack of it.
He scoffed, told me to prepare the enema bag, and get over it.

Oddly enough, I did very much get over it shortly thereafter.

Maybe it was when he put me on my knees in the tub and told me to insert the enema
or when I felt the warm stream of piss hitting my back
maybe it was when he washed my hair as I begged to go to the toilet
or when he repeatedly shoved his cock so far down my throat that I gagged
maybe it was when he pulled me into the shower and washed me down.

Suddenly nothing else mattered.
Because I was no longer submitting
I was nothing more and nothing less than
surrender.

As I was putting away the enema bag, I felt a moment of grace. Not just abstract grace, but physical grace.
Everything that is me was wrapped up in that moment in time.

And I truly do believe that surrender is, and always will be, my greatest form of grace.

Because when nothing is hidden
and nothing is held on to
when notions about how and who we should be are left behind
and I simply let myself become whatever it is he wishes me to be
when I surrender all that I am to all that he is

in that moment
there is a beautiful grace unlike anything else.

To Serve and Submit With Grace

To serve and submit with grace...It's something I strive for. Not physical grace so much as the grace that comes with acceptance and yielding without struggle.
I am um, somewhat challenged in the area of physical grace.

My musings have led me to believe that surrender is perhaps my ultimate form of grace.

The word grace has many connotations.
I need Alpha's grace.
I desire to submit gracefully.
Some might say that by the grace of the Gods we are given life.

Grace is pleasing.
Grace is delicious.
Grace is even beauty in things which can be, on the surface, unattractive.
Grace is an approach, a state of mind and a form of delivery.
Grace is that moment when trying to submit turns into surrender, and the attempt itself vanishes into a state of being.

Oh yes, grace is lovely.

And sometimes I wonder if he sees and feels the grace I strive for, or if it vanishes somewhere between my mind and my delivery.
Or perhaps I never realize my deepest moments of grace because they come in those times when my surrender is so complete that I have no comprehension of anything besides him...

I yearn to submit with grace.
Very much as I yearn to live in his good graces.

When the brain says "STOP!" and the mouth keeps speaking...

Okay, so the funny thing about being submissive is you're not the one who gets to choose when to submit. Imagine that lol. i have been terribly mouthy today. The kind of mouthy where i'm talking, and my brain says "shut up!" as His eyebrows lower and my mouth, well it just keeps on moving. i'm an attention whore. i know it and i'm not to bad at controlling it a fair amount of the time. i know it's not M's fault we hardly ever see each other and He's working on my day off. He's just doing what He has to. i have no doubt that i have earned myself attention--attention that will make me squirm and beg for an ending. He snapped the belt at me earlier in a not so subtle threat that He will no doubt remember later. All because when my brain said "hush," my mouth said, "fuck you!" i know my place. i just need reminders lol. That sounds weak even as i type it, but it's true. After days of not being in our space and just dealing with the trials of life, it's difficult not to fight.
We were in the shower, M frowned at me, "you complained when i didn't let you up for a week, and you haven't been down for a week; now look at you--thinking your the queen of Sheba, ready to take over the world and shit." i tried my best to convince Him it was a good idea as i was bent over gracelessly attempting to shave my legs in less than ample space. The replying motion was quite graceful--as my head slid up the wall of the shower with His hand around my throat and that wicked grin that tells me there's more to come later. And me? Yea, still not graceful creeping up onto my toes in an attempt to match the rise of His hand with a razor dangling precariously from my fingers. "Do a good job little one, i'll be checking later." i may be a shit sometimes, but somehow i ended up with the man of my dreams.

Fantasies i try not to share with myself...

Talking with myself yesterday about my issues brought up another issue. Well, not so much an issue as a fantasy that's probably a really bad idea to play out because of my past. As much of an eye as M keeps on my mental health, i'm not even sure He would do it. Rape scenes fascinate me. Weirdly enough, i do have fantasies about rape but they all involve M saving me. That one as an acted out fantasy would be a disaster lol. It would be like signing some poor man up for execution.
By all rights, i should have no interest or curiosity in acting out rape fantasies of any kind. The thought itself should have me curled up in a ball...Yet it's there. I think it's the one fantasy i may have never shared with M (until He reads this lol). i'm not sure why i have kept this one to myself. i bury it so far down that it doesn't even occur to me when i'm in space and He's making Him share my fantasies. i mean, i have told Him of far dirtier and twisted fantasies so why is this one different? It's not because it's taboo, i mean, it's taboo to admit i'm enough of a whore that i have the fantasy of a group of men cumming all over me (yea, that one was hard to admit). Yet, at the same time, not all fantasies were meant to become reality. Just because i have a fantasy of being used by two men at once, doesn't mean i could physically or emotionally handle it. M is my gage of what i can and cannot cope with. And i'll admit, it's probably a shitty job to have. i appreciate that M is careful with my mind and heart; even when it comes to His own fantasies. He wants to play with another woman and He wants me to find her; however, He questions my ability to cope with it. He decided that it would be best to start online--i find Him someone to play with and then possibly move the fantasy to real life. i'm falling on my face with that. i started really trying--just being myself and admitting right off the bat that i'm a jealous little slut, what i'm looking for, and why. As soon as i took that route, i became far more gracefully accepting of the idea and felt less resentment. Still shitty at picking up women though lol as i have made no progress whatsoever.

Another completely unrelated thing i have been thinking about is space. Subspace, Domspace, O/our space. Last night, for some reason, i had a really hard time going down. i don't know why. i wasn't thinking about anything in particular, i didn't have something weighing on my mind, i just couldn't go down deep. M asked me why i was fighting Him, and i honestly couldn't say. He knows in an instant if i'm not in space. Its a place we share together and He's not happy if i'm not in it. A lot of people talk about subspace, some people talk about Domspace (like a rare event), but i haven't found anyone who talks about O/our space (if it's there to read and i have been blind, someone please send me the link lol). It's the place we both go when we play together. So, for us, is there subspace and Domspace, or is it all O/our space? i think that when i'm floating around the house and He's keeping me down with that sadistically pleasured glint in His eyes, i'm in subspace. When we are along together, and He's swimming in my mind, we are in O/our space...
i really need to work on my conclusions lol. Children make them near impossible.

Need to serve

His finger traced a delicate line down the sweat on my back as I gasped for breath. "Come here." As I rolled towards Him He set a finger under my chin and lifted my face to meet His eyes. "It's to easy for you to fall into thinking that you serve Me because I want you to little one. You need to remember that you serve Me because you NEED to."
How very scarily true.

I have been thinking about the difference between submission and surrender. Is there a difference? I think so. To me, submission is an action. Surrender is a step beyond action into a state of being. It's like a need versus a want. Like speaking the word grace or being in a state of grace.
I feel like I never really knew what true love was. For 12 years I have loved M, not always with passion, not always with purity. But always deeply. Now, it feels as if He is all I live and breath. Leaving the house alone to go to work in the morning is almost painful. My mind feels hazy and I only want to be by His side. Our passion is all-consuming, He slides into my mind every time He slips into my body. When He explodes filling me with Him, I am complete. A whole piece of the intricate and never-ending universe. Sitting at His feet, I am where I was meant to be, resting on my knees, staring into His eyes, my soul is on fire, feeling an endless love that never tires.

And so the real world beckons with the screaming of children and the seemingly ever-present need to go to work. Meh.

In absence of Grace

I have been thinking a lot about grace lately. I tend to strongly equate beauty with grace and I find grace, well, amazing. That being said, I lack it completely. You name the arena, and I just don't got it so to speak. My body is not in the least bit graceful. I could trip over my own feet and break a leg in a padded room lol. My attitude seems to generally be completely devoid of graciousness, and my submission...I think it's graceless as well; though, it is the one instance in life where I feel any semblance of grace in myself. That being said, M practically exudes grace out His friggin pores and the women He notices look like every bone in their bodies were made out of pure unadulterated grace.
The more M is gone, the more I notice how little time I spend on my appearance and overall demeanor lately. I think I brushed my hair all of twice the whole time He was gone. I spend all my time home alone with the kids, covered in food, tears, and mind-numbing craziness. I suppose some women can be graceful while they are changing poopy diapers and scrubbing throw up off their couch, not me though lol. Somehow grace and beauty just don't fall into the equation of coping with daily life lately. I made an effort when He got home, an effort that was half assed to say the least due to the mind-splitting migraine I've been living with. So it wasn't exactly a winning effort. Top it off with His obvious attraction to all those graceful women in the world and our fight of last night, and I feel like I might as well abandon my quest for grace now, find a paper bag, and call it good lol.
I wonder how M would feel about me if He could see me through my eyes. Would He still think me beautiful, would He still love me, would He still believe me worthy of being His property? I feel as if I have lost myself to the needs of our kids, to the mundane mediocrity of daily existence.
I think grace is a state of mind. One that I hope to achieve in my lifetime. Hopefully while I am still young enough not to break a hip by walking out the door lol.