Damages

There's a fine line between hurt and damage. Be it mental, emotional, or physical. A bit of hurt is alright, it reminds us that we are alive. Damage takes you to places that are scarring and difficult to recover from.

Recently, one of my favorite blogs (whatiwonder over there >>> ), did a post about humiliation. Which got me to thinking about the subject a bit more in depth. The teasing and mocking are pretty much a part of daily life at this point (have I mentioned how much I absolutely hate being mocked? It really brings out my most disagreeable and predatory tendencies). Anyways, Alpha seems to view some of my insecurities as free game--my jealous tendencies, certain tones I use, my need to fit things into little boxes, etc. Other insecurities He, generally leaves alone, like how I view my body or family issues. But that isn't the stuff that comes to mind when I think about humiliation. It's one of those tricky arena's where there's a fine line between pushing the limits and all out damaging the person being humiliated. It strips away pride leaving you pliant and vulnerable. Exposed in more ways than the physical. It fucks with your head and takes you places you would normally never dare to tread. I think it's one of those areas of exploration where it's really easy to actually cause mental damage if it's done carelessly.

Since damage is on my mind today (see how gracefully I transition ages--totally stable and upbeat as my birthday approaches), physical harm is the most obvious and easily avoided. I'll pick being choked as my example because it's one of my all-time favorite experiences.
Personally, I think hands are the best way to go. For one, I just enjoy the sensation of His hand wrapped around my throat, for two, I think it's easier for Him to gauge when to let go. Obviously, it's not good for your brain to be deprived of blood and/or oxygen and that's a big part of the high that comes with being choked--your brain is not getting the things it needs to continue functioning. That's why actually being choked out on a regular basis is quite unhealthy, you're killing off brain cells. Of course, that's a huge part of the appeal too--someone literally has your life in their hands. It's an easy way to do serious physical damage if you aren't careful.

There's many paths to damage whether you live vanilla or...not.
Sometimes I wonder, what are the drawbacks to being Dominant? Because I can think of some downsides to being submissive like fucking when you want to sleep, doing things you genuinely don't want to, not getting the final say, etc. If I, as a submissive, had to say what I think is the most difficult thing about being Dominant, I would choose avoiding truly damaging one's sub. Because there's a fine line between playing on the edge and pushing your toys over the edge of no return.

Now, if you will excuse me, I'm going to go try not to damage my children while they attempt to avoid the responsibility of cleaning their room.

All okay

Last night, afterward (I'll let your imagination fill in the blanks. I have little doubt that whatever you come up with will be far more kinky lol), we were lying there in bed. I was feeling needy. The kind of needy where I wanted to be as close as possible without actually crawling into His skin. Alpha tucked my head into His shoulder and said "It's okay. Pleasure, pain, life, death--it's all okay." It was such a random statement. But somehow it was perfect. And I cried (yea, I'm a poster child for stability these days). And you know what? It really was all okay.

Not really any point in thinking up a title...

After staying with my mom for three days so I could work at my joke of a job (really, it's gotten ridiculous), It was good to come home. Of course, we didn't get to sleep in the same bed, but even just that ten minutes of lying there with my head on Alpha's shoulder, and I felt like a halfway new person.
There's something about that feeling
of His muscles rippling when He moves
the rise and fall of His chest
the beating of His heart...
It's heaven on earth.


I could go on and bitch about my week. How my boss is a manipulative asshole who's actually really easy to manipulate right back. About how there's certain moral compromises I refuse to make and how I refused to put my ass on the line so he could bend the rules. About how I need to quit but I need a job even more and they are hard to come by these days. But I won't (trust me, this doesn't count, I could have driveled on for pages).

Instead, I just want to think about that feeling
of Alpha's muscles rippling beneath my hands
His breath whispering softly in my ear
His heartbeat soothing away the trials of my week.

Regarding deletion: Letter to Alpha

 My love,
 We got to this place where I realized all my cards had to be face-up on Your table. I give You what is expected by both You and I--truth. Always. Now the drawback is that You carry so many of my burdens. That some burdens, my worst fears and nightmares about Your well-being--those should not be yours to carry. Some nightmares and moments in time are just fears to work through. Dark moments in time to be deleted and lost.

I know that here, in internet land, is where you expect the most transparency from me. And you have it. I know you view me writing and erasing before you read something to be breaking the rules. I didn't hide it. And I am prepared to accept the consequences of my actions as you see fit. I have mentioned deletion in posts, I left the nice comment asking about it. Because I'm not hiding things from you. Every account, every password, access to everything I write. Because my cards are all face up on your table.

I'm just saying that you comfort my fears enough. Sometimes I need a place to let them out. Read them and throw them at the words feet for a moments time. My way of working past my worst fears. Because some bad dreams are wicked little things.

Categories

So I got my sidebar issue all straightened out (theoretically lol). I ditched the idea of having categories because, well, for something to fit into a category you have to define it. Give it a label and wrap it up with a pretty little bow on top. And who would go where? sfp and kelly--submissive sweethearts (thank you for being such a sweetheart btw sfp)? Kaya--wicked sense of humor and one or two steps from dude with a chainsaw? What about Masters piece and histora--humorous honeys with mildly repressed predatory tendencies...? And sin, fives steps from chainsaw guy and a great read? greengirl--sane and introspective reading for the newbie and beyond? The list goes on (see, it's over on the right lol).

Then, oh my, what box would I go in--the ramblings of an almost sane, sometimes humorous, nut/ soccer mom who happens to be submissive? The point is, that overall, even in daily life, categories are a flawed way of assessing the world. Categories don't work--because not everything fits in cute little boxes. They limit our perceptions and experience.

I get a lot of flack about "my little box of submission" (term coined courtesy of Alpha). That I don't like stepping outside my comfort zone of what I see submission to be. All I can say is, baby I'm trying and you know it shows. Right?

oops...

I was looking at my blogroll...and I think it removes one when I add to it. I may have to delete it and start all over again. Perhaps I'll organize them by category. You know, since we all love being labeled lol.

My twat is Not a lie detector!

People said this year would be better. Honestly I think the claims were made in an effort to keep themselves from jumping off a bridge lol. Anyways, case in point, Alpha dislocated His shoulder again and the kiddos are still sick (on the bright side, the screamer is suffering from a temporary loss of his voice).
This is a state of affairs that makes everyone cranky. I, while not as predatory as some (ahem), have a tendency to let my submissiveness slip a bit, and Alpha goes in the direction of no tolerance from His position of power--stuck on the couch and unable to lift His arm above His head. Needless to say, it's been a less than cheery week which is what led to the Tequila. Well, that and an overabundance of lemons bought for pie which hasn't been made yet due to the fact we still need to wrestle around, and hook up, a fairly large propane tank. I'm not much of a drinker. In fact, the bottle only ever comes out in times of "the shit hath hit the fan," or celebration. So it's no wonder that it takes very little to make me tipsy. By the time we were done watching two very strange movies, I had a headache and just wanted to sleep.
The thing is, Alpha's wired all wrong--unlike me, who despises and kind of physical activity while in pain or deeply distracted, He seems to think that sex makes everything better. We were...a bit out of sync. I couldn't go down and He really doesn't like that. Then He started slapping me. Which is not only unfair, it's just plain mean. Unfortunately, it does seem to do the trick. I start sliding down into the mindset He wants me in and my body betrays me every time. He calls my twat a lie detector. Of all the sexy or dirty things He could choose, He has settled on that title. I mean really? My twat is not a lie detector tyvm. It is a traitor!
Anyways, while sex with a newly set shoulder is always lacking in foreplay, it does have one odd little twist in an area I have been thinking about quite a bit--holding myself still and taking whatever He wants to dish out. I know that if He has to move me or make certain movements He's going to be in extreme pain (His pain's a downer, my pain's an upper. Go figure lol), or the shoulder is going to come out again. While bondage is great, there's something to be said for the simple act of having to make yourself be still and take whatever's coming. In the end I had an incredible (and silent) orgasm...just as I heard the little guy wake up coughing like he belonged in the bronchitis ward and proclaiming that he couldn't talk.
So I slept in the sick ward and Alpha slept in the bed--otherwise known as the injury ward.
We're ready to take over the world now lol.