He Really Crossed the Line This Time

Really, he did! Though, he of course, would argue that one can't cross a line that that they move at will, and perhaps I'm just slow on the uptake...Whatever, he's not always right.

I was mad you see, and he made me not mad. I can't even remember what I was pissed off about, but I do remember being ordered to not be angry.

"Um, excuse me? I have a legitimate right to be illegitimately angry. You can't just order me not to feel a certain way--I have a right to my thoughts and feelings!"

Then he said bossy things to me and made me laugh. Suddenly, I was honestly not at all mad anymore, which sucked because I do think I have a legitimate right to feel however I feel, and I don't think that he should be able to order my feelings around like that.

Yea...I read that that stupid sounding run on sentence too.

I just...He's done it a few times now, and I think that I'm entitled to my feelings, I mean, he has occasionally ordered them around, but his doing so didn't actually change them. Until lately.

I have this idea that if he wants to change my feelings, he doesn't think that they are valid. That's it, I want to know that he believes my feelings are valid. It's not even that I mind him ordering my feelings around, so much as I mind the thought that he might think they aren't important because they are occasionally less than desirable.

Being told what to do or not do, is a lot different than being told what to feel or not feel. My emotions can be...Overwhelming. At the right time, I might literally cry over spilled milk and consider doing so to be  perfectly  reasonable. Until I look back in retrospect, which is when it seems silly and stupid, but it really was how I felt in that moment. So perhaps those particular feelings aren't entirely valid, or in the least bit reasonable, but they are mine!

Maybe I'm just jealous because my feelings have never obeyed me. Much like my body, now that I think about it...

Still, I say that I have a legitimate right to feel illegitimately angry. According to him, he has a legitimate right to do as he pleases with me and my crazy emotions. Bastard.

Terrible with Titles

I think that I might be slowly working my way back to the land of the living. Perhaps I will even be counted among the sane soon! Well, maybe...

I have to say, there are occasional moments in life when I resent his ownership. None of them have held a candle to this week though.

Apparently, it is completely possible to make someone give up an addiction. For a pig-headed, overbearing, stubborn, and completely unreasonable Dominant anyways.

Hmmm, Maybe I was giving myself a bit too much credit in my opening paragraph...

Anyways, this post has been knocking around in the drafts folder for some time, and no matter how hard I try, I cannot seem to to wrap the thought up with a neat little bow...

There is a slight chance that this post might all tie together though!
 
One thing that I occasionally find myself struggling with, (yes, I said one. Oh hush) is that I have always believed that one must do things out of a sense of personal motivation, and that success is dependent on an inner desire for oneself--not outside forces.

In a way, that view is compatible with D/s. And in a way, it is quite contrary.
I realize that those are opposing views, but I don't think that fact negates them.

Anyways...
I found a thought that seems to clear up many of my self- created, over-thinking, obsessive issues that revolve around this particular subject...

The Monogamous Whore?

I was spewing thoughts into my drafts folder when a comment came in on my previous post that sent my train of thought in a completely different direction. Not sure exactly where that direction will lead, but here it is.

The words "slut" and "whore" are ones that tend to carry negative connotations. They are not things most people want to be, or names we want people to call us. The titles are spoken and received as insults.
Because when someone is all pissed off at you and yells that you're a whore? It's not a good thing.

The thing is though, human beings are multifaceted creatures. Just because a woman is a lady, doesn't mean there is not also a part of her that is a whore. Kind of like just because a woman runs a business, does not mean that there's no chance she has a need to submit.

And there is a the lady who could have been, inside every corner prostitute. Someone's daughter, mother, sister...

What we perceive when we see people is not always equivalent to what they really are. Because it takes many parts to make up a whole. And sometimes, when we pick and choose which pieces of the whole we are willing to accept in ourselves, we ignore parts that make us complete.

The concept of Alpha calling me a slut was introduced into our relationship during sex. It went through my head, and my mouth, in it's typical fashion, opened of its own accord and asked "Am I your dirty little slut?"

His shock was palpable. Because, well...I had lots of issues in the talking dirty department. But he ran with it anyways. And I loved it.

Then "whore" came into play. In and of itself, I'm not a huge fan of being called that. But when he throws in that key possessive phrase and the sentence becomes something along the lines of "I own you whore." Ah well, everything changes.

Why don't I have a problem with him calling me those things? Because he owns me.And it turns me on.

I can be anything.
I can be a prude,
a whore,
an expression of innocence,
a slut,
a lady,
a queen,
a slave...
I am
whatever he says I am.
I am me.

But within all of those contexts I am still his.

I was having a hard time clarifying my lines of thought and Alpha made an analogy for me.
If someone who is gay, lives their life in a heterosexual relationship, does that mean that they aren't really gay? I don't think that it does. You are what you are. The difference comes from whether you acknowledge it or not.
And I believe that it is quite possible to be a happily owned whore in a monogamous relationship.

Why do I actually like it when my husband who is the only person I have sex with calls me a slut or a whore?

Because him doing so gives me the freedom to be who and what I am. It acknowledges those parts of me and makes them okay. I don't have to hide pieces of who I am from him or myself.
And I don't actually have to make the choice whether or not to act on it--because he makes that choice for me.

Alpha calling me a whore is like having the layers stripped away--it is saying, "I know who and what you are. And I love you for, all of it. Because you are not just a whore--you are My whore".

He doesn't just tell me that I am a whore and treat me like one.
He tells me that I am beautiful and he loves me, that owning me pleases him and that I am amazing. 
He can treat me like a filthy whore one instant, and the most spectacular and special creature on earth the next.
And it melts me. This works for us.

Thirsty

Maybe it's those little moments smashed up against the fridge gasping for air, or the look that says "Mine!"
Or the way he touches me like every inch belongs to him...

Or perhaps it's the downright D/s drought we have been living in.

But I am thirsty for that sense of being owned...

Very thirsty.

They say that by the time you realize you are thirsty, you're already dehydrated.

I do believe that's true.

And it's easy to gorge and drink your fill until you're sick...Unless the person in charge refuses to let you have your fill. In which case, you avoid the unpleasant repercussions of not being able to handle it...But you still drool over that pool just within sight, just begging you to dive in so you can sate your thirst and sink into its depths...

Yea, I'm not a fan of denial.

Who knew?

Own Me Always

Yesterday morning, Alpha said he couldn't live without sex (I'm not the only one around here with a flare for the dramatic pft). Then I said I couldn't live without D/s.

We both knew we needed a reconnection. If for nothing else than sanity.

I had a traumatizing evening talking to babygirl while Alpha and the boys were crashed out. Anyone who says it's impossible to be traumatized by a four year old has never talked to one lol. I learn something sad about her life every day.

Anyways, Finally all were sleeping soundly snoring in their beds. And of course my husband was snoring soundly on the floor.
Can you believe he tells me I'm mean when I wake him up to go to bed? Inhumane I tell you.

To bed we went. As he was cumming in my ass I begged him to own me always. His responding "yes" sent shivers beyond orgasm down my spine. Ah yes, the thrill of hearing "all Mine." It extends through time and bypasses all those fine lines of life's crazy grind.

I may have to be the queen bitch upon occasion, but I'll always end up where I belong--firmly leashed at his feet.

Life is crazy. Love is good. Being human is a roller coaster ride, and ttwd is an amazing experience on the journey.

I need more coffee. And I may even catch up on my blog reading today as I put in some serious time cleaning the house yesterday.

Ahh, A suitably clean house, 2 out of three kids clean, back in my place where I long to be...Life may not be such a mess after all.

Touch of Ownership

I love the touch that says "I own you." It can be sweet and gentle or harsh and painful.

But there is a possessiveness that runs through every moment of it.

There is no hesitation.

No thought of asking for permission.

When He touches my skin like it is merely an extension of His own.

And my mind stills.

There is an intimacy that doesn't come with other kinds of touch. A bare feeling of nakedness and vulnerability.

And in those moments, there is nothing besides the taking and yielding of self.
Simply us in that place where I am His and His alone.

Shifting in submission

Okay, so anal is one of those topics that I don't usually give more than a passing mention. In fact, I didn't even have a label for it until not to long ago; however, last night deserves more than a passing mention.

As usual, my recollection of events is fuzzy and most likely out of order lol. We were lying in bed and Alpha said He should take my ass and asked me what I thought about that. I opened my mouth to say no (I always do, it's besides the fact that "no" doesn't count)...and nothing came out. I couldn't say it. The instant I realized that I couldn't actually bring myself to say it, I experienced the most instant and noticeable "shift" I have ever had. I knew that we had reached the point where He owns me completely. Of course, here I am having a freakin revelation and He still wants an answer. My reply was "confused." I'm so brilliant with the English language when I'm under. And He was going to take care of Himself for the most part and just cum in my ass which was really giving me the nice way out. But I couldn't handle Him not taking what He wanted, I needed Him to use me for His needs. And He did.
As I have said in a previous post, for me, anal is one of those things that is much more enjoyable as a fantasy and quite painful in practice. I was already so far under that I wasn't even halfway functional. And He wanted all the way in. I really couldn't take it. But He informed me that I could. He talked me though it. He made me breath and relax. And it was amazing. Then He told me to cum. I couldn't (here's where "shit out of luck" comes in). He did. I couldn't feel my arms, I couldn't form a coherent sentence, I was about as functional as a puddle of mush. Normally, if I don't get to cum, it fucks with my head and my body. All my muscles tense up, and I can't sleep. Not this time...this time I just floated. Then He made me go get water and a cigarette. As I was heading out of the bedroom sneezing (I must be allergic to ownership), He said "bless you," now we're all polite and shit--as if He hadn't been calling me a dirty whore five minutes earlier.

The squashed revolution and viewing myself as property

Before I start climbing the bitch ladder lol, I would like to say something about respect--It's a necessary component of any relationship. And I respect Alpha more than any other human being on the face of this planet. I don't know if that means more or less given that the list of people I actually respect is very short...Anyways, back to that ladder.
I didn't want to. I was tired, my back hurt, I was feeling sluggish and cranky. I Really didn't want to. So I decided to stage my own personal little revolution in a completely diplomatic and respectful manner. Translation: "I don't want to." Alpha shot a raised eyebrow in my direction. The kind that is inviting me to dig myself in deeper and if I'm wise I'll shut up right there. I was not feeling wise. "I don't want to and I will not!" Predictably, there came the hand around my throat depriving me of oxygen and offering a very good excuse to shut the fuck up. "Fuck you! I don't want to do this anymore!" I wheezed offering Him the universal symbol of love with both hands. His grip tightened. Then He let go giving me something that was a mix between a derisive snort and an all-out laugh. We both know if He said "okay, you are no longer owned and we are not doing this anymore," that I would shit (figuratively) and come crawling back begging (literally) to be owned and Dominated once again.
When we made it to bed, I still damn well didn't want to. "Do you know what time it is?" He gave me that infuriating grin. "Yes I do, it's time for you to service the account" translation--you're going to suck my dick. I glared at Him and bit and bitched. I was never going to get any of my beloved sleep if I kept the revolution alive so I let it die. And I sucked. And fucked. At some point (see, the haziness is kicking in), I admitted that I have a hard time viewing myself as property. He has this thing where He makes me look Him in the eye while we are having sex. Particularly if we are having a discussion (usually with only one side making sense. And it's not me). He used my hair like a handle and turned my head making me look straight in His eyes. It's almost mentally painful because His look becomes so intense it's difficult not to just squeeze my eyes shut. But even if I do, I can still feel Him looking...Back on point, His reply was immediate "why should you have a hard time viewing yourself as My property, can anyone else do the things I do to you, could anyone else make you shit and piss the bed before you get out of bed in the morning if they wanted to [at this point it's almost a threat, my only consolation is that I know He gets off on controlling my bodily fluids and scat's not a big area of interest], I could make you piss yourself right now if I wanted to." Point taken.

Which leads me to something that I have been thinking about ever since I got in trouble for not eating dinner--taking care of me and viewing myself as property. I try my best to take care of anything and anyone I perceive as being His. From His health and house, to His employees and small possessions. But not myself...To the extent that He has made rules about basic things from brushing my teeth and eating properly to making me get and keep appointments with chiropractors and dentists. If I take a step outside my personal perception, it seems a bit ridiculous--I mean, how sad is it, as a full grown woman, to need rules surrounding basic care of myself?
So I would like to work on that more. Viewing myself as His property. How I care for myself being a good reflection on Him. And I wonder why, since I am so obviously happily and unavoidably owned, is it so difficult for me to perceive myself as property?

Sex, coffee, and chocolate

I think my post about morning sex came off maybe too "I chose," lol.
Since everything started out with the dratted spoon, I didn't really expect things to take the turn they did. On a happy note, Alpha has decided that He doesn't like the spoon all that much. It's a pity there's so many worthy substitutes in the kitchen, and the closet, and the yard...
Anyways, He dragged me to the bedroom by my hair (that's when I am most accommodating I guess. I'm attached to it you know and I am not a fan of premature balding), After the spoon became well acquainted with my ass and I lost count once, uhh, maybe twice? Oops. He kept me on my knees and pulled my ass over to the edge of the bed. When I heard his buckle rattling I thought the belt was destined for my ass. But no, sometimes it is actually used for its original purpose--to hold pants up. It was one of those fucks that's rough, and a little bit brutal. The kind that hurts but is a turn on just because you're being used. He grabbed me by the hair (see a reoccurring theme here? I'm gonna need a wig by forty), pulled my head back, and stated in no uncertain terms that He decides when I fuck. Who I fuck. Who He fucks. Then He asked me if I wanted to cum. Well, yea, but I wasn't really trying to get there because I was pretty sure it wasn't in the cards. Those "I'm taking you now for MY pleasure because I own you" fucks usually end with just one of us cumming and it's not me lol. Maybe He just likes to keep me on my toes. He doesn't like being predictable.
That's one thing I really do miss about bk (before kids)--spontaneity. I'm not a very spontaneous person but He is. There were times He would call me up from work, say He was leaving early and we were going to a concert or something (in the interests of making memories smoother than they really were I tend to avoid mentioning that those were usually the times I couldn't find my id, or my shoes, or my mind lol). When you have a 2 year old and a 7 year old, stuff like that becomes a lot more rare. I think our next outing will probably be to a play party but the way things are looking that won't be for a while.
I'm going to have one more cup of coffee. Well, maybe two or three. And I'll grade the kid's math. Then I shall dive into the experiment that is chocolate truffles. I searched and searched through recipes and finally settled on what I think will be a scrumptious one. Given the copious amounts of chocolate and butter called for, they better damn well be good.