Invisible Chains

I love being tied up, who doesn't? Don't answer that...

As much as I enjoy physical bonds, there is something to be said for the invisible kind.
The kind made solely of his will.

To be ordered into a position and told to hold it, to keep those hands just as they are,knees just so, head angled exactly like that, shoulders back, or chest pressed to the floor...
To be held in place by the control of his will alone...
For as long as he wishes
for no other reason than because he said so...

At first, I always wonder, why? A question inevitably followed by, "How long?".
I firmly believe that there is not one single position on earth which will not eventually become uncomfortable if you hold it long enough. It is always in that discomfort that time becomes a concern for me.
How long have I been there?
How long will I remain there?
What is he doing?
Is he looking?
Is he ignoring me completely? Something which shouldn't be hot, but it is...
Surely, it's been ages, but then again, maybe it has only been a few minutes...
There is an incredible desire to fidget,to chase all those thoughts which flit through my mind.
My mind is so loud, my body is uncomfortable, I can hear every little sound in the house, there's a draft, the cats want food, I forgot to buy cabbage, I really hope the insurance settlement doesn't go to litigation, my head hurts...

It is in that hyper awareness that I realize none of it matters.
And the answers to why and how long, become clear:
because he can,
and as long as it pleases him.
Then, ever so slowly, quiet settles in and I feel myself sinking slowly into space.
All that matters is staying right there.
All I think, and all that I feel, is for him.
All that I am is wrapped up in the chains of his will, and his will alone.

Oh yes, it is the invisible chains that bind most tightly, it is the hidden bonds which hold most true, it is those expressions of his will which glow most brightly unseen.

The Great Online Cookie Exchange Extravaganza!

My all-time favorite Blogland event is just around the corner--The Great Online Cookie Exchange Extravaganza, hosted and coordinated by the awesomely dedicated Jz, over at A Reluctant Bitch.
It's totally awesome, really. You'll love it, promise. Everyone does.

If you want to play, on December 5th, post a recipe for the holiday goodie of your choice (there is no discrimination against varying kinds of goodies).
The only conditions are, that you absolutely must email Jz your recipe, and the URL of your blog, no later than December 3rd, if you want to be on the official list of participants.

The lovely Jz will compile a list of links to the participating blogs, and we all put the list in our recipe posts. That way, we can find all the good stuff other people decide to share.

Feel free to email me with any questions, or drop by and visit Jz. Even if you don't have questions, but want a peek at the previous years cookie exchange, she has them all right there, so it's well worth stopping by and taking a gander.

So, just a quick recap:
If you want to play, and I really hope that you do, you must email Jz a copy of your recipe and the URL of  your blog no later than December 3rd. Then, on December 5th, post your recipe on your blog, along with the list of participants that the lovely Jz will have compiled and sent to us all.

It's a lot of work putting all of this together, so lets make it as easy on her as we can by following the very simple rules stated above. We're pretty good with rules, right?

Won't you please come out and play with us?

P.S If anyone would like to share a recipe, but doesn't have a blog of their own, I would be happy to post it here if you want to email it to me.

Wanting and Willing

I have had a lot of little epiphanies lately (it obviously still remains to be seen if I can actually put them into practice for an extended period of time).
It is quite probable that I have not yet consumed enough coffee for this post to make any semblance of sense. Perhaps consuming copious amounts of caffeine while muddling one's way through it is advisable...

One of the things I have realized, is that submission is not about always being wanting, or even wanting at all--it is about being willing.

Submission is very much about letting go of want. Duh, right?

My greatest submissive issues, our most blatant D/s based conflicts, many of my internal struggles, so many of those issues have taken shape, in some form or fashion, from my wants.

He reminds me. With a sharp slap, with a gentle caress of my cheek, in the way his eyes apologize silently for my own folly, and sometimes with words alone, he reminds me that wanting is the wrong approach.

"It's not about what you do or do not want, little one. You want too much, and you know that you can't be happy if I give you everything you want--that is not what you need.
You need me to make you let go of your wants, because this is not about what you want, it's about what I want. And that, babydoll, is what you need."

There is so much truth in that statement, it's not even cool.

I have come so far from the original thought I started this post with, I have no clue how to tie it all back together...Excuse me while I attempt to muddle through over here...

If submission is not about wanting, how then does one deal with the concept of wanting to do things that they want, when one really really does not actually want to do them? Yes, that is what my mind sounds like, and no, it's not much clearer from here.
That is when, I think, one must be willing. Doing the things they want when we want those things too, is easy. The challenge, the true test if you will, is submitting when we don't want to. And to do that, requires a certain, and deep level of willingness.

Humans have a vast variety of wants, and want in itself is not necessarily a bad thing. I think though, if one wants to live M/s, as the s, want can become an impediment to growth and development of power exchange.

What then though when he wants me wanting, yet I do not...? There I believe, is where willing comes in. I won't always be wanting what he wants me to want. I simply cannot do so, but I can be always willing.

Even when one is unwilling, to acquiesce to his desires anyways, becomes its own form of willing. Because that is what bending to the will of another is all about.

Submission is about that moment when he asks something of me that I truly do not want to do, but I am  willing to do it anyways, because our M/s is not about what I want. And that is, frustratingly enough, what I need.

Morning Coffee

"You're an ass."

"Lol. But I'm an ass that owns your ass. Now go make coffee."

Home Alone

I smarted off, which in retrospect, wasn't actually that smart. That is how I ended up face down on the floor, with my ass in the air, waiting...It always seems like forever when one has been told to wait in a particular position. Yet, somehow, the act of waiting itself turns into an act of submission.

In all fairness, I was probably destined to end up that way at some point during the day. It is an inevitable turn of events when we have the house to ourselves. However, events to follow have not been as predictable.

I did not foresee making breakfast while chained to the stove
or spending the day in cuffs, heels, and clamps...

I would not have guessed that he would instruct me do put on eye makeup, heavy on the black, or that he would send me out to the car naked in a foot of snow to retrieve said makeup, pigtails flying in my desperate attempt to make it back to warmth.

I was a tad shocked when the camera made an appearance. He moved me this way and that, making the offhand comment that perhaps one or two of the photos would make their way onto the blog.
Say...uh, what...?

He says that sex and chains look good on me. Who am I to disagree. Gods know, they feel good. And the day is not yet done...

Time to Stop Pretending

I think that it's finally time to stop pretending

that I don't actually want to suck your cock in the parking lot
that I don't actually want your hand innocuously down my pants while we're standing in the supermarket
that I don't really want to to wear the plug to town
that I don't want you to bend me over the car on the side of the road
that I don't actually want to be left waiting on my knees.

It's time to stop pretending

that being unwilling to do something will mean that I won't get off on it
that I don't want to feel your hand creep up my leg under the table while the waitress takes my order
that I don't want you to pull me into the alley and take whatever form of pleasure you desire in that moment.

It's time to stop pretending that

I don't need you to caress my soul with your words
or fuck my thoughts with your voice
I don't need you to explore my mind and bare my being
that anticipation isn't a turn-on
I don't crave that which I claim to abhor
that I need what I want to matter.

It's time to stop pretending

that I could have ever been anything less than completely yours

mind

body

heart

and soul.

It is time to stop pretending that I wasn't born to be yours.

Some Thoughts on Breath "Play"

This post might possibly be rather long... I recommend coffee, or travel to better places than mine.

I recently read a rather scathing article on the subject of breath play. It purported to be an unbiased  informative piece, and while it raised some very valid points, it was undoubtedly biased in the belief that participating in said activity was dangerously irresponsible, and did not fit under the heading of ssc (safe, sane, and consensual).

Here's the thing...It's hot as fuck. And lets face it, one of the major attractions of D/s is the element of danger.
Here's the other thing...Breath "play" is dangerous because of its potential to be deadly.

In the right context, breath "play" offers a delectable mix of safety and danger...This is the kind of context where I object to the word "play" as a description for something that could easily kill you, but I couldn't come up with anything better, so there you have it.

Here's where my stupid sense of responsibility jumps in and says I have to take quick detour and play the angel's advocate. Forgive me if I accidentally come across as thinking that I actually know what I'm talking about...

Any medical professional or person with a modicum of common sense, will tell you that breath play is dangerous.
Those of us with asthma must admit to a higher level of risk of breathing interruption lasting after play stops, and I think that people with heart conditions are at a higher risk when the neck is involved.
Imho, auto-erotic asphyxiation and choking are the two most dangerous forms of breath play--it is estimated that up to 1,000 people die a year from auto-erotic asphyxiation (that is the high end of a debatable set of numbers), and choking can impact the vagus nerve, leading to cardiac arrest.
So yes, your partner matters, the form of play you choose matters, and so does your physical condition. I am aware that there are medically based opinions to the contrary, as far as the potential for minimizing risk is concerned.

The vagus nerve is in extremely close proximity to the carotid artery.

The other drawback to choking as a form of breath play, is that there's a lot going on in the neck, from arteries and nerves, to larynx and thyroid gland.

A fairly comprehensive overview of breath play in its varying forms, can be found at Within Reality. I strongly recommend that anyone venturing into breath play take the time to go read it.

Anyways...Yea, it could kill you. But sex, sleep apnea, driving, or not looking twice before you cross the road, could kill you too. Nobody runs around waving a red flag at you when you get into your car in the morning.
Surviving life is largely a matter of common sense.

Now that we have the obvious issues out of the way, and my conscience can rest easy that I have not contributed overmuch to the occasionally overwhelming stupidity of humanity, I can move on to how I personally feel about breath play.

The danger is a very large part of my attraction to breath play--breathing is an automatic function of the human body. If we stop doing it, we stop living rather quickly.

Breath play is very much about that ancient dance of predator and prey, which has played out since the dawn of time.
As it is with all beasts, we know that the baring and consequent grasping of one's throat is a universal symbol of Dominance and submission. You acquiescence will either be accepted, or not--it is the risk you take for great reward.

I am going to arch my back, raise my head, and tilt my chin to the side in acquiescence. I will probably be breathing hard and immediately pliant. My lower lip will jut out just  tiny bit--I simply cannot help it, or ignore the throbbing between my legs...
Because in one single movement of your arm, you will become as close as you will ever be, to holding my beating heart in the palm of your hand.

Your eyes are going to develop that dangerous glint, and you're going to reach out and wrap your fingers around my throat, knowing that my life is completely dependent on what you choose to do in that moment. In that moment, you control the air I breathe, and the very blood in my veins.

We both know that you could snap my neck with a calculated flick of your wrist, and we are both acutely aware that my faith and trust are complete and all consuming. That awareness binds us together, suspends us in time--a moment frozen in forever as I breath for you, and you alone. Because you choose to allow me to do so.

When you hold my face under the running water and I cough and sputter as you watch me with that curiously calculating expression, when your hand smothers by breath and I feel that fleeting panic, when you take my life in your hands...
In those moments, I realize that my attraction to breath play lies in knowing to the very core of my being, that I live only because it pleases you for me to do so.