Emotional "Kinks"

I know that I'm still ridiculously behind on replying comments...I haven't forgotten!

I was thinking about what turns me on, what gets me off, what makes me melt and creates that sensation of absolute, "yes, whatever you want whenever you want it" with no inhibitions or reservations.

What really floats my boat.

The thing is...They're my emotional kinks. And to call them kinks seems so trivial, so minimizing, because a kink is ultimately more about what you like than who you are...

Security. Safety. Fear. Loyalty. Trust--real true, deep trust. Baring my truth with no reservations and being accepted--being mentally and emotionally naked, which also ties in with humiliation I guess.

At the core of my emotional "kinks" lies having a deep and unquestioning sense of safety and security. Everything else spiderwebs out from that.

He's been trying. Really fucking hard. And honestly, I haven't done great at jumping off the bitch train. But I had the above realizations as he was wrapped around me before heading out the door this morning. Because I felt that sense of safe and secure rolling off of him into me for the first time in a very long time. And I just wanted to crawl into it and curl up, and stay there, and please it, and exist only there. Always.

That Uncomfortable Feeling

I left a mile-long comment at mouse's place a while back. I try not to do that because, yea--got my own crazy little place to ramble. But, I was sitting here thinking as I have not had much time to do lately (well, that's not exactly accurate, I think all. The. Damn. Time. but business is different). And I started thinking about that uncomfortable feeling that comes when he pushes the edges further out. I mean, I really thought about it.

Before I thought about it, I stood back on the edges and felt it. Not the nitty-gritty little pitfalls of emotion that suck me in, not the jealousy or self doubt, not the emotions that revolve around my concept of self, or the personal perspective of the human sensations an experience evokes. I felt my way around the sensations that come with not being in control. I mean, truly not in control, those places where I would never choose to go but where he can take me if he so chooses.

And I accepted that is my turn-on, my drug of choice, my Achilles heel--the control that is so absolute as to withstand, surpass, and even bypass, my own desires.
More than kisses and sweet nothings, more even than bondage and the pleasure/pain edge, the kink and the physical sensations...Riding that edge of discomfort, the not wanting something so much that being made to do it anyways becomes a turn-on of its own.

I have been pondering my apparent attraction to living on the edge, and my seemingly conflicting desperation for security.
I have come to the conclusion that the two are not a separate as they might appear.
I love hanging off the edge. But only when I know that he is on the other end of the rope that is keeping me from falling to my doom.
I like to play with my demons
to touch my fears
to reach for the fire
and know that he will not allow them to consume me
will not allow them to become me
will not allow it to burn me.

And It Was Good

We have been so caught up in survival lately, that there hasn't been much room for being caught up in each other. Okay, there hasn't been any room.

The dog woke me up at 4:00 his morning. Apparently, when a large male dog needs to pee bad enough to run back and forth down the hallway, he can still hold it for long enough to make sure he takes the time to go in six different places. Really. Six. While I stand in front of the door wrapped in a towel waiting.

Got a tad distracted...

I crawled back in bed and did the usual, "Must go back to sleep, it's to early to gt up, need to do this and this and that for work, we are so behind, I wonder, he really needs to get more sleep, did he even eat at all today, I mean yesterday? Today I need to, tomorrow I've got to, last week I should have, next will I'll have to..."

He rolled over and put his hand on my thigh. Just like he always does. Every time I get up at night and come back to bed, he places his hand on my thigh or on my hip in his sleep. Every night for nearly 17 years.

In contemplation of what my nights would be like without it, I went back to sleep with a deep seated appreciation for that touch.

I dreamed. Of power and dominance, of the comforts that come with being owned, the adventure that fills ones soul when they let go.

There was peace in the darkness like a thousand quiet candles lighting my way home. And it was was good.

We Could Be Nothing Else...

There hasn't really been any kink around here for some time. There also hasn't been a whole lot of submission, if I'm gonna be honest...Because life, not taking my medicine, grandma, life, kids, and more friggin ridiculously stressful beautiful life.

Having spent the day on the couch attempting, somewhat unsuccessfully, to recuperate from being assaulted by books and bed frames yesterday, I had some time to think (mind you, it's a terrible time to "Take a day to think". There simply isn't time for it. I wanted to. That's my story and I'm sticking to it).
But I have once again tripped my way into the pitfalls of digression...

The way we are is not something that I have ever seen reflected in the vanilla couples we have known. Not just the way we have been since consciously shifting our dynamic to one of dominance and submission, but the way that we have always been.

He takes those big steps out, he makes things happen and forges the trail for me to follow.

I have never rented a post office box, opened a bank account, lived alone, registered a car, set up voice mail, or done a myriad of things that most humans consider part of experiencing daily life.

While I am very much a "Do whatever needs to be done" kind of person, the ultimate responsibility for the movement of our lives falls to him (mind you, there are many thing such as scheduling and anything whatsoever to do with doctor which do not fall under this heading).
He has always been the final line of responsibility for our family.

Anyways...

Sometimes I resent the things he expects of me, especially when he's not showing what I think of as "active" dominance (gods know, I do need that). But I think there are many things he does, the way we have always been and lived, and for him those are very much what being a dominant is about.

Looking beyond the kink, beyond  the things we often think of as being D/s, beyond the conscious choices of power exchange, it is still clear that we could be nothing else. Because it is there in the very fabric of how and who we are.

How Does He Take Care of Me?

I got a comment from Blondie, which I have taken the liberty of c/p to respond to in a post. There was also a related comment about addressing the issue of responsibilities in D/s relationships, but I'm going to address that one separately.

"I was always under the impression that the Dominant is supposed to care for his submissive, to know how to take care of her, how to make her feel safe and loved. And in return, the sub gives him herself, all of herself. She trusts him. But for some reason, with the pain and loneliness that you feel at times, I don't see that he is taking good care of you. Am I wrong about what I thought? Am I wrong about how I feel when I read your beautiful posts? You don't have to answer me if you choose not to. I will still be reading your very poetic and wonderful posts."

I think that things start getting very murky when we begin talking about what a Dominant is "Supposed to do". Sure, we all have ideas, but this is about his ideas of what he's supposed to do--I agreed to that a long time ago. Do I always like his ideas? Nope.

He's human, and he doesn't always excel at Dominance. Sometimes, he makes me want to beat my head against a wall. However, I'm no shining star of slavery.
Honestly, his hobby sucks. Seriously. I feel like it wreaks havoc on me--its his way of checking out, and I hate that with a fucking passion. Sometimes I feel neglected, and I don't like that in the least little bit.
Can I deal? Sure.

I don't think that he always takes good care of me, and I know that I don't always give him all of myself. Is that not, however, somewhat the nature of human relationships?

As much as I struggle with the extremes of my emotions, I am...An emotion junky. Pain, rage, joy, sadness, love, experience--they feed me. One of my greatest fears has always been complacency, numbness, distance from feeling. Ironic, given that I feel everything so ridiculously deeply.
Pain tells me I'm alive. Anger reminds me that blood still beats in my veins. Hurt...Hurt keeps me from hurting him. Control keeps me safe and chases my demons away.

He takes care of me by feeding my need. And sometimes that feeding is...Unpleasant. Sometimes he doesn't, and I don't like it. But that's part of being the one who isn't in charge.

And he's there for me. I know that no matter what happens in my life, when the chips are down, when the sky falls, and my world disintegrates into dust beneath my feet, he will be there like the rock that just won't give up. No matter what.

No matter what I am or what I become he will not abandon me--he might beat me and force me to change, but he won't give up on me.
No matter what I tell him or what I am capable of, he will still claim me, still keep me, still love me.

He knows the deepest, angriest, darkest, most twisted parts of me. He knows all that I am and what I have become. And he still wants me. He still keeps me. He still loves me. He accepts me for who and what I am. Always.

There will never be anyone else for me. Never. No other human being will ever step as far inside as he has. Ever. So we deal, and neither one of us is always ideal

There's a whole hell of a lot of something to be said for all that.

Taking care of someone is a subjective experience. Sure, I hate the fucking hobby with all my heart. But it's a hobby, not a deal breaker. In fact, there aren't any deal breakers from my end--that's part of the arrangement.

Love is beautiful and gracious. It is also messy and ugly. Love is peace and war played out on the ultimate battleground of the heart, and it's not always an enjoyable experience.

We Are Who We Are

"I'm a fraud."

He rolled his eyes, "You're not a fraud. You are mine. It's just life. We've both had a lot going on lately"

"Prove that I'm not a fraud then, because I really feel like one lately."

Seriously?! Will I never learn??

"I will."

And he did.

*Sigh.*

Yet further proof that we are what we are despite our doubts or efforts to the contrary.

I think that maybe...Maybe I didn't want to be this anymore, so I convinced myself that I wasn't what I am. The odd thing about being human is that, in the end, it doesn't matter what we tell ourselves we are--because ultimately, we are nothing more and nothing less than who we are.

I realized that I'm a bit like a box, (wish I had a prettier or more graceful analogy). Sometimes I feel like one of those battered cardboard boxes you see floating around the recycling bin, full of unwanted old things. And other times I feel like one of those rare awesome wooden trunks, full of old secrets and hidden treasures.

Accepting who I am makes me feel like the trunk. When I won't, or can't, I become the box. But who I am is always there, no matter what else is currently residing inside with me, or what trappings I find myself surrounded by.

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.

A Need That Only He Can Feed

Once upon a time, a very long time ago in fact, I was searching for something that made me feel real.

To many Pinocchio and princess mixed metaphors?
Ah well, What can I say? Sometimes temptation gets the better of me.

Turns out, for all my running and searching, it was right there under my nose the whole time.

His control.
It quiets my mind, and brings peace to my soul.
It makes me feel alive, and is the one thing that makes everything okay. Even if just for a moment.

I have found that there's very little I actually need in life. His control is one of those things. It brings a stability to my chaotic mind that I just can't seem to find in anything else. It makes me...Okay.

In those moments
when he says that I am his
and I will do whatever he wishes, whenever he wishes it
forever.

For a while, I thought that he had made control my kink. But I was wrong--over time, he has ensured that it is my need. A need that only he can feed.

On a side note, I am terribly low on inspiration these days, so...You know the drill--questions? Answers? Ideas...?

Because That is What He Does

This post was going to be titled Bigoted Baptist Bitches, but believe it or not, there are limits to the amount of continuous complaining that I am willing to put up with from myself. That nice catchy title shall have to wait for another day.

I know that there will always be a roof over my head, electricity when I flip a light switch, and the necessities that my kids and I need, because that is what he does.
I wake up each morning knowing that there will be food for the dinner I make, and a vehicle to get me where I need to go. Because that is what he does.
When the world is falling apart, and my sky is torn asunder, he is there. And I know, that no matter what, if he tells me that it is going to be okay, it will be.

My entire adult life has been shaped around the fact that he will take care of whatever needs to be taken care of. Because that is what he does.

I used to think that this made me weak, and perhaps it does...In the way that only that which matters most can destroy you. In the way of opening the door and inviting in one's own demise...

It's true you know, it's not the day-to-day living, or the big huge terrible things that happen in life which destroy us--it is the people we let in. I mean, truly let in. Into the cracks in our souls, the place between nightmares and dreams.
In a way they fill that space between us and what we perceive as God, becoming our connection to ourselves, and the windows through which we perceive the world. Yes, it is only and always that which matters most which can truly destroy us...

It is jumping if he says to...Because I believe.

There was a time in my life when this scared me. I was so terribly afraid that I could not survive without him, simply because I did not know how. I have since learned that it is possible to survive anything that doesn't actually kill you. Having the will and desire to do so however...Now there is a different story completely.

I don't know where exactly I was going with this post, and I am sure that here is not where I intended to end up, but that's okay.

I learned long ago that I can rely only on him. Because that is what he does.

And so I reached for my destruction, opened the door and invited in my own demise. Knowing that I will always believe him when he says that he will make everything okay.
And so I glory in the catastrophic weakness of knowing that which matters most can destroy me, because  my life is okay as long as he says that it is. Because that is what he does.

Round Three--Thought Processes and Going Mad With Power

Courtesy of greengirl,
Does Alpha share his thought processes or reasons behind all of ttwd - or any of it? Would you want him to - or is it more comfortable for you to accept and not know why he chooses as he does?

It is rare that he will share his thought processes when it comes to anything related to ttwd. It's not that I don't ask, I do...But he generally ignores my questioning. The exception comes when issues arise. Not the first time, and maybe not even the second time the same problem comes up. If I'm having a consistent problem with something and being mean isn't working nothing is working to get my head on board, he will sometimes explain his reasoning. Then, naturally, I feel lame for just not getting it in the first place, because it was usually either a really good thing hiding in awful, or it was just stupid of me to rail against it so much in the first place...

On the surface, yes--I desperately want to know why he chooses what he does. Soo badly...But really, when it comes right down to it, I think that's part of the allure of submission for me to not always know and understand the reasoning, to know that often it is just because he can, and sometimes it because of something else...It is not comfortable for me to accept and not know why he does what he does, but it is...Hmmm, I just don't think that our D/s would work any other way.
Transparency runs one direction in our relationship. And as upset as that occasionally makes me, as insecure and infuriated as it sometimes inspires me to be, I wouldn't change it if I could. Oddly enough, it is one of the power imbalances in our relationship which has become deeply integral to the functioning of our D/s.

And, from Kaya,
 Once your M discovered he had all this power, what was the one thing that he took and ran with that you didn't foresee happening (in other words, has he gone mad with power? Heh)
Is there anything in your life you would take back if you could?

Lol, yes--he has definitely gone mad with power. It is an issue of no small contention around here.

In all seriousness though, yes. I really didn't think that he would take to control the way he has.
I know, I was one of those starry-eyed idiots, and reality didn't feature much in all my carefully crafted perceptions of ttwd, but I would have never in a million years thought that control would be his kink (I think "kink" is a bit of an understatement here, but I'm lacking the motivation to find the word I want).
He took the control aspect and upped it to levels that I was completely unprepared for. I started off much more...Pain oriented? And not so interested in the giving up control aspect of ttwd. He changed that completely (I call it brainwashing, he seems unreasonably attached to the term "Training" whatever).

Is there anything in my life that I would take back if I could...I thought about this a lot, and many of the things which I view as events I wish had never happened, led to events which either changed me for the better, or  to circumstances which impacted my life in a positive way.
I think that the one thing...
It would be the fighting with my dad in the months before he died. Things just got...Really weird, and he could be such an asshole. I do regret spending so much of that time angry with him.
And lunch. He wanted to take me out to lunch for my birthday one year, just us. But he was sick, and we didn't go...Somehow, it just never happened. I would change that. I would have gone to lunch with my dad.

Overall, I think that there are worse things one could regret.

And on the Q & A note...I batted my eyelashes at my darling Master, people. I don't get to ask a whole lot of questions around here, so let me live vicariously through you...

The Beast In My Dreams

I miss it here. I think that this blog helps me focus on submission, and encourages introspection about this journey of power exchange.
Writing here is good for me. Not writing...Not so good.

When I'm really sick, he backs way off. He doesn't usually back off. Especially for so long.

It is still odd, yet somehow now predictable--this feeling.

As I float, something in him coils tighter and tighter
it is there in the way he touches me
the tense restraint in his hands
the unyielding bent of his body when it touches mine.
There is restrained force in every touch, and frustrated patience on his face, as dangerous calculations are  being made patiently behind his eyes.

He waits. While I, of necessity, float loosely leashed at his feet.
And while he waits, that something in him, that beast that he sates with me, it winds tighter still.
Waiting to be set free.
I feel it in his touch, rippling below the surface, waiting to feed. Hungry.
There's always a temporary fear, a momentary panic about things to come as soon as I realize I am well enough for him to feed.
I waiver, afraid to feel his teeth, afraid that he will feed, afraid to admit that my body is once again well enough to meet his needs. Because I am afraid to face the beast.

Yet still I find myself begging for it, begging to float loosely no longer
knowing that I will lay my heart  on his plate
open the doors to my mind
and feed him my soul
every day for my forever.
Because my being will always surrender
knowing that I live at the mercy of the beast who appears in my dreams.

Decisions Decisions

Whenever a person commits to a relationship, they accept the fact that there might be a time when they are responsible for making medical decisions on behalf of the person they are committing to. Such things are not confined to the people we sleep with. Many of us make these decisions for our children, and quite often, other family members.

Every Dominant draws the line somewhere. More aptly perhaps, over and over again in a variety of places and ways.
One of the places where Alpha draws the line, is often when it comes to serious decisions about my healthcare choices. He offers his opinion, and then he expects me to make a well informed choice of my own. I will usually do research and waffle back and forth, finally settling on his original recommendation.

Of course, a strenuous objection from him would be complied with like an order, because that's just how I seem to function these days. That's probably why he offers a mild opinion and then sits back and waits for me to figure my shit out...

I think that ultimately, as long as we are able, there are decisions that should not be put on another persons' shoulders. Simply because, if the wrong decision is made, that person could be left with a lifetime of regret and guilt.

I have been waffling about a decision.
I got two possible diagnosis that are, in and of themselves, not incredibly dangerous. Though they do raise my risk for various (and more severe) health problems.

Apparently exploratory surgery is the only way to get a definitive diagnosis. Chances are, I would refuse the traditional treatment for either condition, because seriously, the last thing I need is more problems with my hormones.

Of course, as the Dr. pointed out, I could refuse traditional methods altogether, and just live in pain.
I know that sounds bad. But for the most part, pain and I have developed a working relationship.
I also think that these conditions can probably be managed in other ways.

Alpha suggested that I try alternative therapies that would likely treat/maintain both conditions without repeated surgeries, or the side effects of pharmaceutical prescriptions.
As he said, "I have offered my opinion, but this one's on you. This is one of those things that you have to decide for yourself."

I realize that this is something I will have to be conscious of for the rest of my life. I figure it will help me with that whole "mindfulness" thing that I have been working on forever.

So for now, the decision has been made--the probe happy doctor can have his good times with someone else. I am going to continue getting my masochistic needs met at home.

D/s Without Punishment?

A question on one of my old posts brought the concept of punishment to the forefront of my mind again. Specifically, how our D/s works without it.

In all honesty, there are still days when I miss punishment. Or more accurately, I miss the absolution and sense of having a clean slate that punishment brings.

In the spring of last year, he announced that punishment would no longer be a part of our dynamic. I may have had a minor meltdown. "You can't have D/s without punishment?! Now I know you're doing it wrong!"
Yea...I even tested the waters a bit. You know, see if he could be provoked into a retraction. Nope. He stuck to his decision like glue. I swear I went through withdrawals.

No punishment doesn't mean that I get away with anything that wasn't allowed before. It's just...Different.

Being the logical man that he is, Alpha patiently explained his reasoning while I panicked and bounced off the walls like a deflating balloon.
He wants me to submit because I need to, because I want to, because of a sense of personal motivation on my part; not because of threat of punishment.
He said that there's enough punishment in the world, without having it in our relationship. Plus, I am apparently quite good at self-punishment. Too bad it comes without the sense of absolution...

I have adapted, and I can see the point and value in his perspective--I am responsible for my own behavior. If I need to be Dominated, I will submit. If I know better, then I should be better. He doesn't feel that it's his job to force me to submit every time I balk at something.

It's not to say that there are not consequences, or that I get to do whatever I want. There is often instant discipline if I step over the line, but he refuses to call it punishment.
There is also the painful fact that one of the terrible side effects of D/s is that his disappointment is utterly crushing.
Seriously, wanna see full grown Little Miss Independent turn into a quivering ball of tears? Catch me in that moment after he says he's disappointed in me.

I miss the sense of absolution that punishment brings. But I also now see the sense in holding myself responsible for my actions as opposed to expecting him to do it for me.

I want to be his and am willing to do whatever is necessary for that to be our reality. Because it is who I am, and I need it. Punishment is ultimately unnecessary for us to accomplish that.  

There are many healthy and fully functioning D/s relationships that utilize punishment. I think that there are also more D/s relationships than people realize, which do not have punishment as part of the dynamic.

In some odd, and perhaps twisted way, withholding punishment becomes a punishment in and of itself--there will be no absolution to look forward to after I fuck up, there will be no pain to wash it all away. There will be bitter disappointment, and the knowledge that I did wrong.

Since this post originated with a question, I think now would be a good time to add that no punishment doesn't mean no pain.
Sometimes I need that beating, the pain and absolution that washes the weight of life away. And I get it. It just does not come in the form of punishment.

Alpha has many responsibilities. One of those is helping me to be what he expects me to be by creating an environment where I desire to submit to him.
Ultimately, this is a consensual arrangement, and I am responsible for exhibiting the kind of behavior that I know makes our arrangement function well.

Taking punishment out of our dynamic was his way of ensuring that my submission always comes from an inner desire and need to please him, not fear of repercussions.

He is still just as patient and strict as ever, perhaps more so. Above all else, he expects that I will do my best to please him. It is a simple and all-encompassing expectation that is not always easy to accomplish. But I try. Because this is who I am, and he is what I need.

Even though this is quite the ramble, I have a feeling that I somehow managed to leave a lot out...

Automatic Responses

I have spent a lot of my blogging time carefully adding phrases like, "In my opinion, I think, just my two cents, I believe, I'm not an expert, etc" and avoiding blanket statements like "this is how it works, this is why that is, this is how it's done, this is right, this is wrong, etc".
Sorry, but I think I might be over that. For the simple reason that the whole blog is about what I think, and if someone can't tell that these are just opinions, then they should really consider restricting their internet access for their own well-being.

That being said...

In the beginning of our forays into D/s, I had a terrible case of what is commonly termed "sub frenzy". Otherwise known as that god-awful state of needing everything yesterday in such a terrible way that we're lucky our Dominants don't throw us off a bridge.

In retrospect, all that "needy now now now" stuff was not only somewhat irrational, it was asking for the impossible.
Because the only way to get to certain places, is to travel to them. And that trip takes time. In fact, I like to think that the journey never ends--there are always new discoveries to be made and lessons to be learned.

One of the (many) things that takes time, is automatic responses.
Automatic responses aren't about having a thought or making a choice, they're about that moment when your will becomes his so completely that you don't even realize it.

The automatic response comes from all those previous thoughts, every little choice to submit, every second of obedience, and every moment of surrender, that leads up to the moment when his will is your own.

Much of the beauty of being alive lies in the fact that we all possess free will. Even in situations where we have absolutely no control whatsoever, we still have the free will to make little choices within those situations.

Submitting is about choosing to align our will with our Dominant's. Over, and over, and over, and over again. Until it becomes an automatic response, until we have done it so many times, that we cannot always tell where our will ends and theirs begins.

We often say that we can't leave, we can't cut our hair, we can't wear certain clothing, buy certain things, make certain decisions on our own, etc.
Technically, that isn't exactly correct. And if it is, that's not D/s--it's abuse.

More accurately, we have exercised our own free will, and have chosen to give him control. Then we repeated that choice a million times in millions of tiny ways, until we came to believe that those choices were no longer ours to make. Because we spent years aligning our will with theirs until obedience became an automatic response.

Don't get me wrong, I don't think that automatic responses are like a blanket that covers everything at once--there are still many things I balk at, fight against, think twice about, question, etc. And then there are times and events when there is no act of choosing, no concept of my own free will, and no thought whatsoever. Just automatic responses to his exertion of will.

This moment always makes me weak in the knees...

Yea...This whole spiel was inspired by a very non-D/s moment as I was squatting up on scaffolding--he was cutting a board extremely close to my feet and told me not to look. My eyes instantly closed. He laughed and said he loved me. In retrospect, I do wonder if he was joking about not looking...

Simply Put...Or Not...

You know how sometimes you know something, but you don't really "Know" it, and one day, all of a sudden, you actually realize what you knew all along?

Yea...I doubt that any amount of coffee is going to make this one coherent...

Anyways...

I realized that there really is no out of this D/s thing. Oh you can logic your way around it all you want, but really--we were made for D/s. I agreed to it, and this is not an arrangement that he will allow me to get out of. Ever.
In some form or fashion, we will always be D/s. And I will always be the s.

A functioning relationship is not just D/s, it is more than power exchange, beyond kink--it is a  symbiotic partnership of human beings.
I think though, that for some of us, Dominance and submission is a requirement for that symbiosis.
I'm not exactly sure when it became a lifetime commitment like marriage...It just kind of happened.

I don't always want to be the submissive.
But as he said the other day, "You know why you can't have whatever your little heart desires, why it is that you can't do whatever you want? Because deep down in your heart, that's not what makes you happy. It's not what you need."
I have thought a lot about that statement. And dammit, it seems to be true. Sometimes I just really want what I want. But it's not what I need. And sometimes, I really don't want what I need, because it's just not what I want.

Sometimes he makes me so mad that I can't even see straight, sometimes I think that he expects the moon and doesn't want to give the stars, sometimes I want out of this particular arrangement of power that we call D/s, sometimes I think that he's pig-headed, arrogant, and just wants his damn way no matter whether it's right or not.
Sometimes, I really don't want what I need because it's really not what I want.
And sometimes...

 Sometimes, things get like this:

We go through this:

And eventually, we will find ourselves here:

Sometimes, we can't have what we want, because it's not what we need.

Conversations From the Past Lead to Realizations of Today

I have done an excessive exceptional amount of thinking over the last few days. I think that all those thoughts are starting to form something coherent. Maybe.

My realizations about our dynamic and control threw me for a it of a loop. My first reaction was a tiny touch of panic. That panic quickly turned into need (natural progression from one end of the spectrum to the other right). Then came the doubt and a teensy tiny identity crisis.

Doubt about how far he is willing to take us.

I wonder sometimes, how long that doubt will continue to reoccur. The questioning of what happens if I fall further than he is willing to go, what if he tells me "Far enough," what if...

And then there was the identity crisis. I do think that I'm a bit old for such things, but it is what it is.
I never really pay much attention to the distinctions between submissive and slave. It doesn't matter to me which title someone chooses to go by, and I have always identified myself as submissive not slave because...Hmmm, not sure actually, it just seemed more accurate.

Then suddenly one day (okay, last week), that definition began to matter to me. In my life. How and who I define myself to be. And I'm still not positive which label fits or why I suddenly feel the need to define those lines more clearly for myself.

I started thinking about the conversations we had years ago--the ones where we sat down and discussed how D/s was going to work for us, what our parameters were, what we did and did not want to come of it.

I remember me freaking out and asking him "What happens if you don't like what you let out, and I want to go further than you are willing, what if, what if, what if?" That is when he put down the basic ground rules.

"Whatever you let out, whatever we become, whoever you are that you tried to hide away, it's okay. All you have to do is remember that I control it. And everything will be fine."

He also informed me that there were circumstances in which he would put an end to, or at least take a step back from, our D/s--if I began to display an inability to function independently.

And that was it. The basic platform we started from.

Alpha is a straightforward man. He does not say things he doesn't mean, and he doesn't go back on his word once he has given it.
Even though I had mostly forgotten those past conversations, looking back, he hasn't deviated from those first statements.

I think that it can be all to easy to let doubt creep in when one is the person to have initially discovered ttwd in an already established relationship. It doesn't always work, and everyone has a place that they will not venture beyond. When incompatibility of depth occurs, conflicts arise.
So I do sometimes wonder if we will eventually discover that I'm a shade too twisted. But if I remember that first statement he made, those fears become irrelevant.

Because apparently, he is rather good at this whole Dominant thing.

And whatever I am, whatever I may be, I strive to be the best that I can at it.

Together we become more than the sum of our parts. And the less time I spend looking down the road, the more I live and love wherever we are at in this crazy journey we are on.

The Boundaries of Perception

It's that moment when I realize that I can't take any more so I struggle to escape, and his hands clamp down on my hips as he goes deeper...

It's that moment when our eyes meet and we both know that I will do whatever he tells me to do...

It's that moment when his lips brush across the top of my head, and his hand wraps around my throat...

It's the way he grabs me and plays with whatever he wants, as if my body is merely an extension of his own...

It's the way he leans in and whispers "Mine" in my ear...

It's the moment when I feel a knife sliding slowly across my skin...

That is when I realize that boundaries are simply a way of focusing on something so as to make that something into a form that our minds can assimilate.

That is when I realize, that the moment in which I let go of all that I perceive myself to be, I become truly his.

We often say that "real life" has a way of throwing ttwd a little off track. But I have come to see that statement as rather erroneous--Our power exchange is real life. And while it is occasionally overshadowed by other aspects of reality, it has very much become like blood--it's there just below the surface, always moving, always flowing. And just because we can't always see it, doesn't mean that it is not there sustaining us, running through our veins, a deep and integral part of who we are.

I no longer want to be his submissive. I no longer disagree when he calls me his slave. I have somehow simply become...Both.

Because the boundaries of my perception are not the boundaries of our reality.

Consideration

"I always try to take your advice into consideration baby--whether you think I do or not. Even when it doesn't look like it."

I love that.

In the beginning, when I had an excessive amount of preconceived notions, I thought D/s meant my opinions didn't count as much. In retrospect, that was downright silly--but it seemed horribly logical at the time.
My opinions still count plenty. He just decides what to do with them.

I actually feel like he listens to me much better now. Instead of decreasing consideration, D/s expanded the amount of consideration we give each other.

Sure, sometimes I decide that he's an inconsiderate ass just because he can be. But overall, when it comes to the things that really matter, he gives me lots of consideration. That doesn't mean he always goes in the direction I think he should, but he does listen.

I give him much more consideration than I used to. And it's funny looking back at how we were compared to how we are.
I do so much wondering and thinking, that sometimes I forget how long we have had this dynamic. There are fundamental changes that occurred gradually over time. Sometimes I even forget they happened.

It has been long enough that our exchange of power is woven so deeply into our relationship that it's just always there. Despite the cycles and crazy times where it seems nonexistent.

Looking at where we were and where we are now? The changes changes have been pretty big.

I might even get this whole submission thing down eventually!

Realizing Potential

One of the things that Alpha has always done for me is to encourage me to meet my potential.
But I have noticed that he is much more proactive and adamant about it since starting our forays into power exchange.

For me, one of the drawbacks of consistent over thinking, is doubting myself and my abilities.
The thing is, while he gets the final say, while he is more than happy to bend me to his will and control me, he also demands that I live up to my potential outside of our relationship.

I know it might not sound like a very big deal, but also think that there is a fairly common misconception that having a submissive means making her less than she is. And yes, sometimes I am very much less than my whole. But it can actually be really nice to let everything else go and just be...His. Nothing else.

Sorry, got distracted already.
Okay, now I remember what I was originally going on about.

He has this amazing faith in me that often surpasses my faith in myself.
Sometimes he soothes away my fears, often he laughs them away as if they are simply silly little obstacles of my own making, and he occasionally growls in frustration. Okay, so more than occasionally lol.

Where I see flaws, he sees unrealized potential. Where I see a chance to fall flat, he sees an opportunity to fly. When I hear the low road calling, he pushes me down the high road with a grin that dares me to challenge him.

When I sat and cried in frustration at algebra, he raised his eyebrows and said "You live in that damn book. You'll be great."
And I was. Because I tried.
It admittedly took an unnatural amount of effort--but I lived, ate, breathed, bitched, and obsessed over every class. And earned nothing less than a very solid 4.0.
Okay, technically I made it a little over that, but people seem to think that it's really annoying when someone places that much importance on good grades lol.

I make pretty decent money. I also come crawling home cursing my day and the powers that be for having a skill set that is more demanding than my body agrees with.
So he tells me that I am free to quit, but if I do I had better damn well do something that I really enjoy.

I know that my grammar leaves something to be desired, and I'm pretty sure that my punctuation can be downright atrocious. And those are, (in my mind) great reasons for not doing what I love most.
He doesn't see it like that. He growls at me and tells me that I won't really know if I never try.

And if the stories in my head ever make it to paper? It will be because his faith in me outweighed the doubt I have of myself.
Because, as he says--wasting potential is a far worse crime than having no potential at all.

I Need You to Hit me

No not you. Sheesh, how twisted do you think I am?

I used to feel like the slap was a bad thing. It's kind of derogatory, it's not nice to hit people, and men shouldn't smack their wives around.
My view, while situation dependent, has changed quite a lot.

I honestly don't remember the first time he slapped me. I do remember it was during sex and we had been at ttwd for some time. It shocked the daylights out of me.
I almost cried. But instead I had an earthshaking orgasm.

And then it started creeping out of the bedroom.

Yes, I think there have been a couple of times where I did cry. But that's okay. Neither of us believe that tears should necessarily be the goal, even though sometimes they are (I'm not trying to talk in circles, really I'm not). But some of the best experiences I have had are the ones where I end up crying. Sometimes it's like an orgasmic release without the orgasm.

Oh...I got distracted again didn't I?

At this point in our relationship, I should probably correct my attitude and get back on course with nothing more than a word or two sounds kind of reasonable right? What can I say, I'm a bit dense at times, I get many opportunities for self-improvement.

A word or two doesn't always do it. But a slap or two? It's like there's an invisible reset button located in the vicinity of my face. Because suddenly I'm repentant. And all malleable and my pussy aches (haha, I used a dirty word! Seriously, I'm not sure it's ever been featured here lol, and I'm pretty sure those five letters took a whole minute to type).

And I don't really like it, but I want him to do it again.

I still don't think that men should smack their wives around. But I also like it when mine slaps me around a bit. It helps that he's never hit me in anger. And he knows his own strength--he's big, I'm not.
You know what else makes it hot? He won't ever let anyone else hit me.

Yesss...Beat me, use and abuse me, humiliate me and tell me I'm amazing, make me cry and kiss away my tears, treat me like a filthy whore and stroke my hair while I sit at your feet.
The key to me? His refusal to allow anyone else to treat me like anything less than his wife and equal.