I think that I finally managed to perfect the nonsensical title.
Here's where I'm going--the concept of M/s being "better" than D/s, or D/s being "better" than M/s.
Did I miss the memo where this was all one big competition? Seriously, people seem to think you're either too far in, or not far enough. Who appoints these ttwd police?
Personally, I prefer the deep end. All in and one step from drowning. It's who I am and how I'm made. I want to go as far as I possibly can, hand over everything that I am until there's nothing left and the nothing itself completes me. I need to be consumed in the fires of his needs, no way out, only further in. I'm an experience junky, a slut for everything I enjoy, a whore to everything that makes me feel truly alive. It's who I am and how I have always been. Right or wrong, that is the window through which I view ttwd.
We have been together for a long time. Sixteen years. About half of those years were before D/s. I don't need negotiation, I don't need my own terms, I don't need to consent anymore. Because I am, we are, it is the way it is.
Physically, yes, I might capable of walking away. But it was truth when he said that I'd always be his. Even if we parted ways, there would be part of me that would always belong to him, no matter what. There is nothing he would do that could change that. No matter what choices he makes, I will never walk away. I feel that I long ago ceased being able to do so.
That's me. My life. Who we are. And I'm okay with it.
There's not a damn thing wrong with playing in the shallows. In fact, sometimes that is the healthiest place for one to be.
I think that sometimes our own insecurities provoke us to pass judgement on those who's relationships differ from our own--the submissive criticizes the slave because they wonder if their own submission is enough, the slave criticizes the sub because she wonders if her personal submission is too much.
I have very strong opinions which are sometimes misinterpreted. Ttwd is not a game for us, it's our life. I think that, for many, it is a game. And I truly do believe that's okay, but if you don't want it to be a game, if you want to go deeper, there are certain things and patterns that you have to outgrow, change, and accept. You cannot have it both ways.
That's not me saying that full-time submission is better than part-time. It is simply the truth as I see it to be. I have no interest or even thoughts, really, for D/s that is a game--that is not within the scope of my experience. Nor do I have any desire for it to be so.
I have been trying to walk a middle line with this, because I really do hate seeing anyone express that slave or sub is "Better". I hate to sound trite, but ultimately, it's like comparing apples and oranges--they're both friggin fruit, but they are most definitely not the same thing. They're both good, but one is really only better insofar as the way that you personally feel about eating it. And there's no one "twue" fruit.
I've been blogging for about four years, most of which I identified as a submissive. That has changed. And so, I have noticed, has the way that some people approach their comments. It has also changed my perspective about the comments and posts that I have read elsewhere.
If you are going to criticize someone as being too far in, as not looking out for themselves enough, for abandoning what you believe reality to be, for living in the deep end and sharing their views, perhaps it would be good to check your own insecurities before passing judgement.
If I am advocating for too much and you are afraid that you aren't giving enough, it is not a reflection on me if you feel that I think I am better. It is simply your interpretation of my thoughts.
I live in my mind, and as the saying goes, "I am both better and worse than you can possibly imagine". I know that I am not better than you simply because I live my life as a slave. Nor am I any worse.
Slave, submissive, or vanilla, we all strive to live in a way that works for us. My way is better because it's mine (well, his). Ideally, we are all happy enough with our choices to feel the same way, and intelligent enough to think about what comes out of our mouths (or fingers, as the case may be) before we allow our own insecurities to criticize others.
I don't even know anymore...Just me trying to survive this thing called life for the duration of my time in it...
Wednesday, July 30, 2014
Tuesday, July 29, 2014
I Think I'm in Love...
Last night he was hurting me and calling me a dirty whore.
Today he introduced me to someone as his "Beautiful wife".
I think I'm in love...
Today he introduced me to someone as his "Beautiful wife".
I think I'm in love...
Monday, July 28, 2014
The World Stopped
As he grabbed my throat to counter the resistance which I could not help but to give, and brought the water to my face, I had a long moment of new-found panic. The struggle did no good, and my desperate attempts at escape ended with me in the corner of the shower on my toes, gasping for air through the waves of water...Until he was done. Until he allowed me to breathe and released me...
When I saw the cane, I grabbed my pillow. As if clutching it desperately and scrambling across the bed into the corner would somehow save me from what was to come.
I tried to beg out, but he would have none of it.
By eight, I was sure that he was going to ten, (because he seems to like round numbers) and I knew that I couldn't possibly handle it.
When the words, "Eleven. Thank you Master, may I please have another?" slid past my lips, I knew he was going to twenty. Twenty was going to be twelve more than I could handle.
He stopped at thirteen. Somewhere in the haze, my brain registered a slightly disconnected surprise at the odd number. I was too grateful for the fact that it was over to offer any comments.
At some point, he asked me why I was so far away. My response was that I just couldn't come back. It had been too long.
"Silly girl, you haven't left. You can't. That's not the way this works." He whispered, as he shoved my face into the bed and entered me from behind.
At one point he asked me what was up with me lately. It's this underhanded thing he does when he knows that I can barely speak and my brain is mush. "I need more upkeep", was my honest response. In my endorphin fueled haze, I found myself wondering about the validity of "upkeep", was it really a word...?
It didn't matter. Because after a certain point, words become meaningless, and I realize that thought is an abstract and distant experience without form.
For just a little while, he made the world stop. And I went to sleep, not arguing with the daily demons in my mind, but hearing his voice growling quietly in my head, "Mine. Always Mine."
When I saw the cane, I grabbed my pillow. As if clutching it desperately and scrambling across the bed into the corner would somehow save me from what was to come.
I tried to beg out, but he would have none of it.
By eight, I was sure that he was going to ten, (because he seems to like round numbers) and I knew that I couldn't possibly handle it.
When the words, "Eleven. Thank you Master, may I please have another?" slid past my lips, I knew he was going to twenty. Twenty was going to be twelve more than I could handle.
He stopped at thirteen. Somewhere in the haze, my brain registered a slightly disconnected surprise at the odd number. I was too grateful for the fact that it was over to offer any comments.
At some point, he asked me why I was so far away. My response was that I just couldn't come back. It had been too long.
"Silly girl, you haven't left. You can't. That's not the way this works." He whispered, as he shoved my face into the bed and entered me from behind.
At one point he asked me what was up with me lately. It's this underhanded thing he does when he knows that I can barely speak and my brain is mush. "I need more upkeep", was my honest response. In my endorphin fueled haze, I found myself wondering about the validity of "upkeep", was it really a word...?
It didn't matter. Because after a certain point, words become meaningless, and I realize that thought is an abstract and distant experience without form.
For just a little while, he made the world stop. And I went to sleep, not arguing with the daily demons in my mind, but hearing his voice growling quietly in my head, "Mine. Always Mine."
Sunday, July 27, 2014
My Bad...
So...Remember a little while back, when I was complaining about his terrible procrastination?
Yea...
Guess who dealt with all of their important paperwork, and who still hasn't sent off the water bill that was due last week.
Still doesn't mean that I was wrong...
Yea...
Guess who dealt with all of their important paperwork, and who still hasn't sent off the water bill that was due last week.
*Head desk*
Still doesn't mean that I was wrong...
Saturday, July 26, 2014
He Makes Me Be Better
I've been thinking again...
He makes me a better person. Not just figuratively, he literally makes me be a better person. Sometimes I resent that fact, but overall, it's good for me. I guess...
I could give anyone anything, let anyone take advantage, go to any lengths, and part the damn seas for them. I could just as easily morally justify taking a baseball bat...
Overall, there's not usually a whole lot of in between in how I feel about people.
Alpha, on the other hand, is a fairly easy-going man. He always tries to see where other people are coming from, and understand the reasoning behind the fucked up things they do.
Me? I can be somewhat unreasonable in that I don't really care why people do the fucked up things they do. As long as I have done nothing to warrant their derision, the motivation matters not one bit to me.
I also have a consistently malfunctioning brain to mouth filter, (just in case no one noticed) and he encourages a certain amount of polite self censorship.
I had an interesting conversation the other day...My mother and I had initiated an intervention because it's totally not okay for a full grown man to be beating on his mom.
Let's just say that this particular conversation was a bit of backlash from that situation. Eventually, the words "Should I just off myself?" were uttered in an appropriately dramatic fashion. I was a good girl. Every part of my brain was screaming, "Just remember dude, up the river, not across! Instead, I diplomatically settled for, "Suicide is a bitch way out. Don't be stupid".
Maybe that brain to mouth filter still needs a tiny bit of polishing...
He makes me a better person. Not just figuratively, he literally makes me be a better person. Sometimes I resent that fact, but overall, it's good for me. I guess...
I could give anyone anything, let anyone take advantage, go to any lengths, and part the damn seas for them. I could just as easily morally justify taking a baseball bat...
Overall, there's not usually a whole lot of in between in how I feel about people.
Alpha, on the other hand, is a fairly easy-going man. He always tries to see where other people are coming from, and understand the reasoning behind the fucked up things they do.
Me? I can be somewhat unreasonable in that I don't really care why people do the fucked up things they do. As long as I have done nothing to warrant their derision, the motivation matters not one bit to me.
I also have a consistently malfunctioning brain to mouth filter, (just in case no one noticed) and he encourages a certain amount of polite self censorship.
I had an interesting conversation the other day...My mother and I had initiated an intervention because it's totally not okay for a full grown man to be beating on his mom.
Let's just say that this particular conversation was a bit of backlash from that situation. Eventually, the words "Should I just off myself?" were uttered in an appropriately dramatic fashion. I was a good girl. Every part of my brain was screaming, "Just remember dude, up the river, not across! Instead, I diplomatically settled for, "Suicide is a bitch way out. Don't be stupid".
Maybe that brain to mouth filter still needs a tiny bit of polishing...
Wednesday, July 23, 2014
All I Have to Say
And that, my friends, is all I have to say about anything. Except that I really wish they had used the proper spelling of "too" for that second-to-last line...
Sunday, July 20, 2014
Time Will Tell...
I guess only time will tell...Maybe it won't be hell.
I thought about pulling out my cards and doing a reading for the first time in years...But I don't think that I will...My readings have always been extremely accurate. When I was younger, I wanted to know. I'm not sure why I wanted so badly to see what was coming...I don't want to know anymore. Because what has been seen cannot be unseen. And it's never funny.
Knowing won't change a damn thing about going.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)