Surrender

Sometimes, I find myself in a mood where I want to somehow capture an emotion, a feeling, an expression of myself. This is one of those times. I'm not entirely sure what to do with it or about it at the moment. I'm almost in a mood to write poetry of some kind, but nothing is coming to me. What to do? Just .... pour forth what I'm thinking. So that's what I'll do.

Surrender is a word that captured my attention a long time ago. I love the feelings it evokes in me. There is submission, there is slavery, there is being taken.... and then there is surrender. What images does it bring up for you? To surrender is more than to be taken, more than to submit, and more to being someone's slave.

sur·ren·der (sə-rěn'dər)
~To relinquish possession or control of to another because of demand or compulsion.
~To give up in favor of another.
~To give up or abandon
~To give over or resign (oneself) to something, as to an emotion
~To give oneself up, as to an enemy.
~The act or an instance of surrendering.

Interesting, isn't it?

The very word implies a struggle, a battle -if you will-, and the end result of which is to "give up" or "give in".

I think that this word more than any other describes my journey to find Syr. Before Her, it would seem that I expected to have my submission taken, worked for. I find myself not respecting a "lazy top", someone who wants me to be responsible for creating 100% of the dynamic. It should be a 50/50 prospect (in my opinion). Yes I will offer my submission, but I expect and deserve for my partner to offer me their Dominance.

I had found myself, previously, in very unbalanced dynamics. To be fair, both ways. I've been in D/s relationships where I was a very lazy submissive, and expected my Dominant to do all of the work. And then, I have also found myself in a relationship where if I wasn't actively creating and maintaining our D/s lifestyle, it would have fallen by the wayside, and eventually did when I just couldn't be the only one anymore.

The reality of human existence (as I see it) is that we need to give and take as equally as possible to have successful relationships. This give and take exists even within the most extreme M/s dynamic. An Owner must give of Him/Herself by putting the work forth to guide, teach, protect and push their pet. The owned must give of him/herself by putting forth the effort to give up control, to submit, to serve.

Both have expectations in return, of things they will take from the other. This is what balance is all about.

For myself, I have found it a struggle to truly relinquish control. I consider myself a very natural submissive, and yet I micro-manage everything in my life. There is a control-freak aspect of me that can very easily get completely out of control. I have to willingly and purposefully let this part of me 'go' when I submit. Submitting is a conscious act and is never so simple as just 'doing'.

To push yourself to push past what is 'easy' to do what is difficult, when the end result is submission? Well, if you ask me, that's the very definition of surrender.

It is what moves me, what makes me feel the most possessed. Anybody can "take" and anybody can "give". But to battle yourself and come out of that battle stronger, and yet able to lay this strength and power at your Owner's feet? That takes conviction and self-awareness and a great deal of trust.

I lay this strength and power at Syr's feet, regularly.

I surrender.

Love and Slavery

I wanted to write a little something on love and slavery. It can be hard to verbalize how powerful of a love exists between Syr and I, but I see mirror images of that same powerful love in other M/s-dynamic couples. There is something unique about an Owner/pet, Owner/slave, Master/slave etc kind of relationship that I find hard to explain or describe when it comes to the love aspect.

It is foreign to some people, how one could find such true beauty in being *owned* by another human being, or in *owning* another human being. And yet, it really is not that foreign of a concept. Think of the way a beloved pet (a dog or a cat) must feel? How must it feel to have another being willing to care for you in that way? I look down at the black cat curled around my feet, my beloved pet, and it helps put into context how I feel. Here is this creature, at my feet, who loves and adores me. He comforts me when I'm sad, amuses me when he is at play, and is a delightful companion. He deserves, in return, that I make sure he is well fed, taken care of, nurtured, housed. He deserves to be treated with love and respected as a member of my family. It is humbling to be responsible for another creature in this way. It must feel that way to Syr at times.

And as for me, I look to Syr as I imagine a pet looks to her owner. Syr is there to cherish and protect me. I can not imagine loving Her more than I do. I can not imagine trusting Her more than I do. I have never loved, nor trusted, at this depth before and I am not sure that I ever could again. I literally lay my life at Syr's feet to do with as She wishes. The really amazing thing? She would never do something with it that wasn't in my best interest. I find myself craving pain at Her hands, and more extreme S/M play than I ever have before. I long to feel Her knives against my skin. I crave the pain of Her bite. I want to writhe and whimper, beg and plead for her. All because I know she will never take me further than I am able to go, even if I want to go further. She will always protect me, and always do whatever She can to meet my needs, to fulfill me, and to help me grow.

Though I had a Master before, I never knew the true meaning of belonging to someone else, truly. I blame that partially on His and my, then, polyamorous lifestyle. Nothing against it, I have known many very successful, very happy people in loving polyamorous relationships. But -- it's not me. And I never realized that I could never truly belong to Someone unless I was the only one. Now, I know.

But I know also that this is more intense than that for many reasons, not the least of which is a destined connection between the two of us: something that we both believe in very much.

All I know is that when She looks at me and reminds me that I belong to Her, this incredible gratefulness that She owns me, and this incredible love that is absolutely indescribable.

Our Wedding Vows

I, take you, alena,

to be My own,

to shelter and protect,

respect and cherish,

to guide and to love

in this life and all future lives to come.

I take You, Syr,

to be my own,

to honor and obey,

respect and cherish,

to surrender and to love

in this life,and all future lives to come.

On feeling small...

Syr gave me a writing assignment today. She's observed since knowing me, that whenever I stand near Her, I slouch so that I am shorter than Her. I've never really been aware of it. It is very much an unconscious thing.

I've always described my submissive space as "little" space. It is the best way that I know of to describe it. I don't even know what else would be appropriate. "sub-space" doesn't describe how it *feels*. Saying that I feel "little" does.

And the interesting thing is, that Syr and I are basically the same height. In fact, I am about 1 inch taller than Her. I am not the type of person who cares about height on any kind of real level. I have told Her before that She is 10 feet tall to me when I am on my knees. It is true.

And yet, whenever I get close to Her, I slouch, I curl down, I lean into and up to Her. Perhaps it is that "safe" feeling I get by being 'lower' than Her. After all, I love that feeling whenever it happens. When She sits at the computer and I curl up next to her on the floor. I may not be "kneeling" or doing anything formally or obviously submissive, yet I adore the feeling of being beneath Her. When She puts me on my knees, I get that feeling. When She stands behind me and wraps Her arms around my waist and I can lean back against Her, I get that feeling. When She stands over me when I am sitting to give me a kiss, I get that feeling. And I *love* that feeling.

Perhaps, that is why I unconsciously change my posture to be 'smaller' than Her when I stand close to Her. I love feeling small by Her. It feels safe and intimate and special.

And, I love the way She responds to it. When I sit at Her feet, even in the most vanilla of settings, She reaches out and strokes her fingers along my head, petting me in a way. When I tip my head up to Her as She leans over to kiss me, She'll let her hands trail along my throat or the back of my neck. And when I curl into Her, slouching to be smaller than Her when we are standing, She wraps Her arms around me in this way that is protective and nurturing.

It is the littlest things sometimes that make me feel owned and protected, nurtured and cared for. This, I suppose, is one of those things.

It's only an inch or two, and I wonder if other people notice.

I doubt it. In my playful moments, I enjoy teasing Her that I am taller than Her. And yet, in my mind She is taller than me, bigger than me, stronger than me. She can put me on my knees with a single glance, and I melt into Her with a single look.

I suppose this is just another example of how our M/s dynamic, albeit subtle to the casual observer, is so completely 24/7, so completely consistent even when it appears to be at its most vanilla...

Am I a masochist?

As I sit here, writing, I find myself still completely astounded at this new side of me which seems to have developed almost overnight. Well, not almost -- literally overnight!

Perhaps it's the influence of the other blogs I've been reading lately, particularly kaya's. Or, perhaps it's writing my novel, and realizing that I missed out, in many ways, from the chance to safely explore certain aspects of my service because of established doubt and mistrust in the Dominants I served for the bulk of my life, that is, before I met Syr.

Yesterday, I woke up craving something intense and new. I don't even know where it came from. All I know is that as I sat down to work on my novel for the day, suddenly all I wanted was to feel the pressure of the nipple clamps Syr bought for me as I wrote. A physical sensation spurring me in my writing. But, when I couldn't find them, I felt nearly desperate with need for pain, for breast and nipple torture. I was filled with surging need and I went for the only thing I could think of at the time: rope.

I pulled out the simple nylon clothes-line bundle of rope that Syr had purchased for us to play with several months before and found myself quickly fashioning a very simple self-bondage setup which started at my waist, ran between my legs with a very well placed knot just above my clit, and ended at my chest, where I tied it off, and then used a second length of rope to bind each breast firmly.

I marvelled at the look of my breasts bulging and a dark angry red, jutting out from the rope that bound them. I'd actually, formerly, always found pictures of this sort of bondage vaguely disturbing, and not the least bit attractive, but the feeling of it was something else entirely. being able to feel that rope binding me, and the full smoothness of each breast as it jutted out, and the odd way my skin felt under my hands had me absolutely enthralled. I played with the rope for a while, and then decided I needed more, somehow. I opened our drawer o' fun and withdrew the smallest of our strap-on cocks, one that Syr never actually uses strapped on (too small), and after moving the rope aside, drove it deep inside and replaced the rope which did a marvelous job of keeping it in place. I unbound my breasts (knowing it wasn't safe to leave that kind of bondage in place for too long) and then put clothes on over the whole getup and then proceeded back to my noveling 'station' to continue writing.

But I was distracted by the erotic feel of the rope and a craving for more, for something that *hurt*, specifically on my nipples. After wandering the house looking for anything pinchy or clothes-pin like, I realized I was going to have to take a trip to the store to find what I was looking for. I got out of my rope getup, got into clothes again and headed out the dollar store...

At the first dollar store, I scored: a package of 24 full size plastic clothespins, a package of 72 plastic clothes pegs (pictured above), a bag of rubber bands, and a small package of tiny plastic binder-clips.

But I wasn't fully satisfied. The first store was sold out of tacks. I don't know why, but suddenly I also wanted to try out that whole 'tack bra insert' idea I'd gotten now from several blogs I read regularly. So, I headed to the second dollar store where I got two packs of thumbtacks, a set of shoulder pads (that I thought would make good 'bases' for the tack bra inserts), and some super miniature wooden clothespins.

When I got home, I tried a couple out for a moment or two, and then mixed them up into a 'bag of fun' as a present for Syr when she got home. She had a bit of a thing for clothespins, but until yesterday, the idea hadn't appealed to me in the slightest.

When she got home from work, I immediately confessed to what I'd done that day, including the fact that not once had I given in to the urge to cum (I had specific instructions not to).

It was hard, admitting this to her. I have never been in such a 'strange' mood before, and have never before defined myself as a masochist. She took it in stride and was, I dare say, even rather pleased. But, she hadn't been feeling good and we ended up making a fairly early night of it. She did leave me with one instruction for today: if I did play I was either allowed to cum not at all or 10 times before she got home from work. All or nothing. If I didn't finish all 10, I'd be punished if I did even 1. In addition, she instracted me to build the tack bra inserts, but only partially and explained the area she wanted covered with tacks, and that I was to wear them for as long as was comfortable but NOT to push it too hard. Noted.

After I sent her off to work, I could hardly wait to try out the new playthings.

I started small, one of the clothes pegs on each nipple, and then I went and took a long shower, purposely letting the water hit the pegs, which sent small shivers of pain through me. I liked it. A lot.

I finished my shower, climbed into bed, and put a couple of rows of clothes pegs on each breast, and even played with a couple on my labia. And then, the crowning moment: I took one full size plastic clothespin and clipped it pretty much directly onto my clit.

Woah! That was new. I was drenched and soon had to unclip that last one, and the labia clips and 'do' something about all this delicious pain.

With the asisstance of a vibrating egg, it wasn't long until I got close to my first orgasm, but to add a twist I started removing the pegs as I got close. They hurt more coming off than staying on and so I played with different ways of removing them, for maximum effect. I left the two that were clipped directly on my nipples for last though, removing them at the moment of my first climax.

9 orgasms later, with a pile of clothespegs next to me, I completely passed out into a rather sublime nap.

I got dinner started, got some more things done, and then at around 1:30pm I decided I was ready to play with the clothes pegs again, though I knew I wasn't allowed to orgasm any more. I got ambitious, and I managed, in very neat rows, to clip the entire package of 72 clothes pegs on my breasts with at least four on each clipped directly to my aereola and nipple. 72. Holy crap.

I was actually somewhat dissapointed that I ran out! But I took pictures of the colorful display for Syr to admire later. :)

My goal was simple, to keep them on as long as I thought I could. After about an hour, I removed all of them, the sweet surge of mild pain as they were removed drove me a little bit crazy, but I was still hungry for more. I loved the marks that they left and tried to take pictures of those for Syr as well, though I'm not sure how well the marks really show.

I got another idea, and pulled one nipple out, stretching it as I clipped a peg fully onto the 'base' of my nipple. I repeated the procedure with my other one. The effect was that the base of the nipple was essentially 'pinched' so that blood (and sensitivity) filled the tip of each. Then I took a second clothes peg and clipped it onto the tip. I arranged them carefully so that they were hanging downward and not jutting straight out, and I pulled a long bulky tee shirt on over them and went back to my novelling station to work on my writing.

The pain was incredible, and delicious, and when I felt the heat of it get a bit too intense, I gave in and removed them. It was incredible and I would have loved to feel Syr's cock driving in to me at the moment they came off. But, alas, she is still not home from work. ;)

So, with my now incredibly sensitive tortured nipples, I put my bra on and inserted the tack bra inserts, careful to make sure the tacks surrounded my sensitive nipples, and am now sitting here, about to continue writing. The only unfortunate thing is that all this playing with pain has actually gotten in the way of my wordcount yesterday and today. I'm just hoping to make some of that up with a couple thousand words done before Syr gets home in about 3 hours.

I never used to identify as a masochist. Now, I'm not so sure.

Maybe, trust was all I needed to open the door to this other side of me.

All I know for sure, is that the feel of the tacks pressing into my sensitive flesh as I write this entry is about the most erotic thing I've ever felt.

More, please, Syr?

Full time submission...

Living in Her home has been an adjustment. I'm not exactly sure, yet how well I've made the transition, though I know we are still feeling our way around an in person, true 24/7 dynamic. It is interesting to see the ways that my submission will naturally show itself, or the pleasure I can take in the simplest of things.
I have found myself positively luxuriating in daily tasks. When Syr gets up in the morning, so do I. I pack Her lunch or prepare Her coffee or breakfast. Once I've sent her off, I go about some daily household tasks. The one consistent task is that I make the bed each morning. Something so simple and yet so divinely submissive to take the pleasure in doing it well so that when she goes into the bedroom each evening to get ready for bed, she is reminded of this small task that I have completed for Her.
We were talking recently about a passage I read on another slave's journal. A comment about how a 'true' slave does not say no and expect it to mean something. We had a lengthy intellectual discussion about this and discovered much about each other. It was actually very productive, because while we both maintain the belief that I always have the right to tell her what I think, feel, want, and need, I still leave it to her to make the final decision. The thing is, that as Her slave, Her wife... Her partner in life... as all of those things, I trust Her that if I express my inability or discomfort to do something that She make the choice that is best for me. It may not match up with what I think I want/need, but it generally is a choice that is beneficial to us *both* not just to Her.
Perhaps our view on D/s, on an M/s style dynamic is different than others. After all, my first and only concern should be Her pleasure and satisfaction, should it not? Yet is that realistic? In our very successful (for us) dynamic, not so much... for others? Absolutely.
There is a divine respect that we hold for each other and it shows in every interaction, every scene, in every time we make love, in every act of service that I offer and in every command that She issues.
And that, is the undercurrent of all that we are to each other and all that we will be. Forever.
But, that is all for now... for I have a story I am writing, for NaNoWriMo. *smiles* In part, it tells my journey, interwoven with a great deal of fiction, but in keeping with the general truth of my growth as a person and within my lifestyle. It is becoming an intellectually collaborative effort between Syr and I, though the writing will be mine alone until the 50,000 word mark at least. She will be helping with editing and making it a better and better story after that. We both love the plot and theme of it so much that we are hoping to pursue publication if the story comes out as we both hope it will. No pressure. ;) In all seriousness I am having fun with it. But, I am not as far along as I should be so off I go to get some more written...

Face Slapping

I'd been hinting..

.. and just outright saying... lately.. that i wanted to explore face slapping with Syr.

Why? I'm not really sure. Something told me that it was safe to explore with Her. It wouldn't be about how hard She could hit me, and I knew it wouldn't be about the pain itself, but about the experience, the psychological effect.

Syr was hesitant, because it's something you have to approach with some delicacy. We had several conversations, discussing feelings and possible reactions on both our sides. She was concerned about context being incredibly important. She had playfully lightly slapped my cheeks before when we had been goofing off, which was what brought this fascination to the surface for me in the first place, but neither of us had approached it from a mor serious place at all.

And then, a little over a week ago, She took the next step.

I was on my knees at Her feet, looking up at Her, and with Her eyes locked on mine, she slapped my left cheek first with Her right hand. It wasn't hard, but my dear Goddess it plummeted me into little space faster than anything else ever has. She repeated, the slaps slightly harder and I don't know if I moaned or I whimpered but I felt that I must have.

I could feel the heat rushing through me. This was something that made me feel so incredibly owned. She used Her left hand on my right cheek, then, alternating firm slaps. I could feel the warmth in my cheeks and it sent jolts down my spine and straight to my clit. I could have writhed for Her, I could have begged for Her. The feel of Her hands on my face in that way was something I would have never dreamed could have been so pleasurable. But it was... incredibly so.

I could feel the inside of me churning with desire for more, and for harder slaps. Neither of us want Her to mark or bruise my face, but I wanted more, so much more.... it was amazing.

Even reliving it by writing about it has me squirming in my seat. I can imagine all the ways She might employ this technique. I understand, though, the need for caution when it comes to context. It has to be very clear to us both that we are in a D/s space, that we both feel safe and know that it's not just coming out of the blue. It has to be very deliberate.

But it's amazing.

I have this fantasy now. I can see me under Her as She drives Her cock deep and hard into me, holding Herself inside me, pressed so hard that my vision is blurred and then the slow deliberate tug on the back of my hair as She makes sure I am looking up at Her, the whispered command to open my eyes, to look at Her, and the gentle touch of Her fingers as she brushes the hair out of my eyes, clearing the way.... and then two or three carefully delivered slaps to my face, and as the heat spreads along my cheeks, She drives hard and fast into me, pushing me to that edge and holding me there like She loves to do... over and over again....

Speculum

Syr and I went shopping last weekend. We were in an adult toy store designed for women.

Syr purchased a fabulous new cock we have aptly named Big Red. I have never felt anything that magnificent before in my entire life... it was amazing. But, I digress...

While we were in the store, we walked by a counter with several of these plastic disposable vaginal speculums on display. I started when I saw them and immediately had a very intense image run through my mind. Syr, ever observant, noticed my reaction and stopped me right there in the store and demanded that I write about my thoughts on this item as soon as possible.

I'd never even considered this item before in any context. I don't exactly have the most pleasant memories of annual (lately, every six months) visits to the gynecologist. However, when I saw this in that toy store, the image that popped into my mind was me, lying spread eagle, my wrists and ankles bound so that I could not move, my bottom propped up on a pillow and Syr, laying on Her tummy between my spread legs with a birds eye view of the most delicate part of me. I could see Her using this tool to open me wide for Her, to see what I looked like, inside my most secret self.

The image alone made my face so hot with blushing that I could barely stand it. And I realized that, for me, having Her look at me there is incredibly intimate, incredibly "edgey".

When I know She is looking at me there, I drop very deeply into subspace. I get so little I can hardly move, or talk, or breathe. I noticed a similar reaction in myself when She groomed me for the first time, trimming me to Her liking. It's incredibly intense and requires huge amounts of trust for me to lie there and give in to that, to Her being so close and seeing me that way.

I react the same when She uses Her mouth on me.

I think I have a lot of built in programming regarding the taboos of attention on that part of me. Sometimes, Syr will mention that She can smell me, my arousal, and I never know quite how to handle that. Part of me feels ashamed and embarrassed and self cosncious. Part of me feels some sort of thrill at Her talking about it. And part of me is terrified and wonders if She likes it when She can smell me. Does it excite Her?

There is a lot of that fear in Her looking at me, there. And the idea of the speculum, of not just seeing what She can see naturally, but of spreading me open and looking inside. *shiver* It feels dangerous and edgey and scary.

And yet, I imagine that even the action of Her fingers, spreading me open as She looked at me would produce the same effect.

Scary....

Edgey...

Thrilling?

Punishment Vs. Reward

Syr asked me to write about punishment vs. reward in a specific context.

She wanted to hear my thoughts on how the same physical activity (say, a spanking) gets a VERY different reaction out of me if it's a punishment, than it does if it's a reward or for pleasure specifically.

I'm not really sure how to explain it, except to say that for me, most of our dynamic: my submission, and Her Dominance is a psychological thing. It's not about the physical actions nearly as much as it is about the words, the touch, the interactions between us, even something so simple as a look. But it makes sense when you really think about it. It is so easy for Her to drop me with something so simple as a look or a touch, without any words spoken at all, without any obvious aggressive touch.

When I am misbehaving, She will often hook a finger into the sterling silver bracelet I wear on my wrist as a symbol of Her ownership. That action will drop me like a stone every time. It reminds me instantly of who I am. I am Hers.

The same theory can be applied to something such as a "spanking". For most, a spanking makes a poor punishment. After all, many of us are masochists and enjoy such attention, regardless of why it's happening. And yet, psychologically, if She is spanking me because I have broken a rule, messed up, etc, generally I do not enjoy it. I react to it as a punishment. I can say that there are elements of the sensation that are pleasurable, sure but in my head what consumes my thoughts is that I am being punished, and that over-rides much of the pleasure I would feel.

It's no different than any other thing you enjoy. If someone gives it to you because they want to treat you, you enjoy it, you feel good about it. But if the sentiment is different behind the giving, the pleasure is affected as well.

For myself, in my head, it is the physical repercussion of a rule broken, and that is how it "feels" on many many levels.

If I am being honest, I will admit that whether the action itself is reward or punishment, sometimes the 'attention' of the punishment is a positive thing. It reminds me that I am safe, loved, protected. Punishment, just like reward, reminds me that I am owned and cherished, but most of all, it reminds me that I am Hers.

What if we have to stop?

After reading yesterday's assignment, Syr asked me to write about how I would communicate a need to stop, if something we were doing that was new (or even if it wasn't) was becoming a 'bad' feeling instead of a good feeling.

We don't currently have safewords of any kind in place. That said, we are committed to each other and have spent enough time with one another that I am confident that Syr could and would sense true distress if I were experiencing it.

But, a very real dilemma could be that sometimes, when I am 'little' (in subspace to one degree or another), communication can be difficult for me and I think this is where Syr's concern might lie.

I also have some stigma in my own head related to safewords. In a way it feels like 'giving up' and so I hate to use them. I prefer to function on trust.

However there are some things that I'd like to play with more, that perhaps Syr would as well which are edgier, and require us both knowing that I can communicate my feelings to Her especially in the event that I feel frightened, unsafe, wierded out, etc.

So, what i wanted to talk about was what happens in my head when a pleasant or 'good' sensation whether it's psychological or physical becomes an unpleasant one.

The first reaction I have (desired or not) when something goes 'bad' in a scene, interaction, or activity is that I pop out of little-space instantly. It isn't a slow pull out, it's immediate. It can be very startling but is very clear.

I can think of some specific examples...

When in subspace I can find it hard to safeword when pain gets too intense... sometimes because I can still handle it... sometimes because I want to push through to that better (albeit darker) place.

But one time, when in a very deep subspace with my former Master, I was experiencing a flogging. A few falls from the heavy flogger wrapped too high on my shoulder, around my neck and it hurt in that really bad way and I *shouted* "red" (very angrily I might add).

My headspace was shattered and once that happened I was able to VERY aggressively let Him know that I was *done*.

There have been other instances, a pinch that hit just the wrong way... a flogger strike or cane strike that went awry...

In more pscychological or mental or mind-fuck styles of play the reaction is the same. When something goes bad, subspace is broken. It can be startling, but the good news is that once that headspace is broken, I *can* and *will* communicate my need for the scene or activity to end.

The communication barrier ceases to exist when I need things to stop.

In addition to that, the communication between Syr and I is very very good. I am comfortable talking to Her about topics I used to shy away from. There is very little that I could say to Her that even makes me pause or hesitate... knowing that means I feel confident that if we are doing anything that turns out to be less pleasant than we would imagine it to be, that we could communicate that to each other.

~alena

Humiliation?

Syr asked me, yesterday about how I felt about humiliation... in general.

I find myself being introspective on the topic because, for me, it is not so simple as "is humiliation good or bad" for me. It's more a matter of what KIND of humiliation.... what drives it.... or... is it?

Excuse me while I think out loud for a little while.... first, let me go back in my own personal history to delve into some of my more extreme personal fantasies that I have explored at one time... or another.

Or ... not.

Suddenly, I find the idea of delving into those old online-only fantasies to be something that makes me feel a little bit queasy. Why? I think, in part, because I was searching for something for a while, though I wasn't sure what.

I wanted complete surrender, complete submission... and I think at that time, I felt I could only get it by going more and more extreme, more and more *HARSH*, more and more... cruel.

And so I sought out online scenes or even relationships with Dominants who were into heavy-handed S/M, extreme humiliation....

And yet I didn't find it enjoyable for as hot as it was. Does that make sense? How can something turn you on but ultimately make you feel bad about yourself?

Yet, these did...

Humiliation was their main theme, most often.

"Bitch"
"Cunt"
"Whore"
"Slut"

Deconstruct these terms and they are not in and of themselves humiliating but in the right context, they can be. I sought tops who would treat me like an object because I thought that's what I desired and what I needed.

It wasn't.

I thought I enjoyed humiliation play. But the fact is that "humiliation" is not a positive experience for me. It's not a warm/fuzzy feel-good kinda thing.

And yet, now, today I find myself craving experiences with Syr and putting them in a whole different context.

When Syr whispers: "My little whore" to me.... I get a warm thrill racing up and down my spine. When She calls me Her slut, Her little girl, or even the one time She called me a slave, though it's not a term we often used, She acknowledge it is what I am to Her.... these are things I enjoy, that I love, that make me feel cherished and owned.

It makes me coo with pleasure and pride. I am Hers and I love being all things for and to Her. It is pride, not humiliation. And I know that in some ways, that was what I was supposed to feel before.. but I didn't... and perhaps the difference is in the level of relationship. I am devoted to Syr truly and purely with 100 percent of me. No other ever had my exclusive devotion before Her.

With Syr there is pure love, pure trust, and pure submission. Nothing holds me back, nothing makes me feel unsafe. I do not doubt that She will catch me if I fall. I do not wonder if She will give up on me, I know She won't. Most of all, I know that She respects me.

She owns me. She loves me. She respects me.I am Her slave in body, mind, heart, and soul in a way that I have never been slave to any other person.

And do I find myself craving humiliation?
No. Because nothing She could do to me, could feel "humiliating". I trust Her not to make me feel things that are unpleasant, unless it is for a very good reason. She has no desire to humiliate me.

Do I find myself craving things that could classically be defined as humiliation play? Yes.

I crave...
...Her hand in my hair as She presses me down to press a soft kiss on Her foot or boot
...Her whispered voice calling me Her whore, slut, slave, or pet.
...The sight of Her stone-face and firmly pointed finger when She silently orders me to kneel or lay where She is directing me to.
...The feel of her bare hands reddening my ass until it stings with the lightest touch as I lay over Her lap in a position old as time.
...The vulnerability of being made to strip, to stand naked before Her, to be present and open for Her.
...Her hands slapping my face, deliberately, as Her eyes remain locked on mine.

All this and more do I crave, not because these things are humiliating, but because they aren't with Her, for Her.

For some, humiliation is a core part of being broken down, of revealing who and what you are.

For me, it had it's place in my past, but has no place in my present.

My present is simple.

I want to be loved, to be cherished, to be owned, to be revealed, to be made to be vulnerable and to be reminded who I belong to. I want to be pushed to do the hard things, the scary things and know it will be okay. I want to be pushed to the brink of surrender and then pushed that extra inch until I'm tumbling into the darkness of Her arms and Her love forever.

This is what I want, what I desire, what I crave, and what I need.

~alena

Catching Up...

Syr gave me a couple of assignments quite some time ago, and until now there has not been a realistic opportunity to write about them. I wanted to rectify that while I have a few minutes of quiet here in my office.

~~~

Talk about things that used to be limits or that you used to find distasteful but that you now find exciting, appealing, or even crave and why?

Recently I have found myself suddenly wanting, craving, and desiring things that used to be things I would have considered soft or hard limits, things that I never would have found appealing.

It's been interesting to say the least.

What prompted this assignment, actually was a comment made in passing one day a few weeks ago. We were talking quietly in the kitchen and I mentioned that I would love for Syr to have a nice pair of black boots and then quietly, before I could think about it or stop myself, I said "so i can lick them...". We were BOTH stunned by my comment. Where the heck did that come from?

It's not that I have a boot or foot fetish, quite the opposite I used to detest when my former Master would have me even kiss his shoe. Ew!

Yet it wasn't "ew" with Syr... it was an intoxicating fantasy that flashed in my head and that I actually verbalized before I could even stop myself.

It's not that find myself fantasizing about licking Her boots specifically... more that I believe the action itself of kneeling at Her feet and kissing Her black boot-clad foot would be an incredibly moving and intoxicating experience.

It isn't humiliating to think about this action. Before, with others, it was a humiliating act and one I did not enjoy, it made me blush and not in a positive way. With Syr, the idea sounds nice... sweet... even loving.

There are other things too. I have been craving blood drawn at Syr's hands. I don't crave anything extreme, nothing like that. But the idea of Her knife running along my skin just hard enough to draw a fine line of blood? Oh my goddess that idea absolutely makes me throb with desire.

Lately I have found myself yearning to feel her palm tapping against my cheek in soft slaps.... or craving bare handed over-the-knee or over-the-lap type spankings. I have requested such spankings twice now and have verbalized my curiousity and desire to play with more face-slapping (light) type play.

Why? Where is this coming from?

I think the answer is fairly obvious.. it is trust, and it is knowing that Syr is not just paying lip service when She tells me She loves me and cherishes me and owns me. She means it, with every fiber of her being. She doesn't want to humiliate me, She wants to give me pleasure and fulfill my fantasies. She doesn't want to step on me, She wants to guide and push and teach me.

And my heart, my body, my spirit, my mind... they know the difference.

~~~

Describe how the you that you are now would have responded to your former Master?

Syr wanted to know how the person I am today would have responded to my former Master, mostly out of curiousity and I believe to allow me to see how I have changed.

That's easy.

I would never have been attracted to Him in the first place.

Quite simply, the person I am now is someone who is empowered and strong, not weak or broken. I do not need my Owner to 'heal' me. I need my Owner to encourage me to be the strongest, best me that I can be. And my former Master would not have known what to do with that. His intentions were good (I believe), but He did not know how to respond or react or really 'handle' an empowered submissive, someone who knew who she was in every sense of the word. He wasn't interested in lifting me up, but instead breaking me down. He didn't intend to be harmful, and truly He did help me through some things, but the fact remains that He drew His Dominance from my submission... it was not an equal give and take and the me, now, would not be content nor satisfied on any level with that kind of dynamic.

~~~

Syr has given me a new assignment. I am to pick a time each day, and at that time write whatever it is that I am thinking about.

My biggest 'roadblock' to this assignment has been trying to figure out what "time" I could actually be consistent. I haven't yet found the answer to that. So far, the best candidates I have are "as soon as i get home from work" (which isn't an exact time per se) "right before I go to bed" (also not an exact time, and I'm not sure this time makes a good candidate because I'm usually talking to Syr at this time), or "when I first get up in th emorning".

Right now I think "when I first get up in the morning" will probably win, though I don't usually power up my computer when I first get up in the morning, it might not hurt me to get up a few minutes early, do a little writing first thing when my mind is clear and not heavy with the worries and stress of the day, and then get ready for work. It might also help me establish some morning rituals which would be helpful.

I've been thinking and processing a lot about monogomy and my fears and anxieties around anything that I feel 'threatens' that so I do want to write about that, but it will have to be later or in another entry as I have some errands to run for now...

~alena

A submissive's needs...

I read a post the other day at Confessions of an English Gentleman about a sub asking how she could encourage her Dominant to be more... well.. Dominant.

Syr and I were talking about it and She wanted my thoughts on the subject.

It's actually something that I feel I have some experience with as I have been in D/s relationships where there was a lot of s going on and just not a lot of D... not through anyone's fault necessarily but the result was I felt like without my constant work to make D/s a priority in our relationship, that it would have faded out of laziness and maybe even lack of interest in perpetuating the dynamic.

See, for me, D/s is about 80% psychological. I thrive on the emotional and non-physical part of the dynamic. Perhaps this is in part because I am really *not* a masochist like most would define themselves. Some kinds and levels of pain I enjoy, but I enjoy them in large part because of the dynamic involved. Without the dynamic, you're just hitting me and while the endorphins can be nice at times, as can the emotional release, it's the dynamic that keeps me feeling fulfilled and cherished as a submissive.

The mistake I made was thinking I *could* 'encourage' my Dominant to be more so. The result was I would either get incredibly bratty (which often deflated His Dominant ego when I got too out of hand) or I would try my hardest to be more and more submissive in hopes it would encourage a complimentary response.

Guess what? Neither of those tactics worked...

You know what I *didn't* try?

I didn't just have a candid, honest conversation with Him about my needs.

I learned from that experience.

As a submissive, or even as a woman in a relationship, I have the right to speak up and discuss what my needs are... and my wants... I trust my Syr to hear those needs and wants and to know the difference. If there is a *need* that She can't provide, we talk about it... and decide how important that need is (so far there hasn't been any She can't provide). The wants are absolutely at Her discretion, and She knows it, but it is a way to let Her know where I'm at.

A Dominant is expected to tell their submissive what they need and expect, and yet often I see submissives told they are 'topping from the bottom' if they try and return the favor... Perhaps some Dominants are threatened by this behavior.

I don't really know...

I do know that our relationship is still a relationship and our marriage is like any other marriage. We have to come together as two people who love each other first and make sure we are both feeling fulfilled. That is critical no matter what kind of relationship it is, and just like any other relationship, COMMUNICATION is key.

Although... *grins*

I must say... that when it's little cravings, sometimes just displaying my submission to Her openly and genuinely is all She needs to feel extra Toppy!

Excellence is a habit

We are what we repeatedly do. Excellence, then, is not an act, but a habit. ~Aristotle

I found this quote to be stirring. It is a pure and simple truth. It matters not how very badly we want to behave a certain way. It does not become who we are until we behave a certain way with some consistency.

Wow.

Talk about your lightbulb-flipping on kind of moment!

Consistency is something I've spoken on quite a bit in my discussions with others about the success (or not) of a 24/7 D/s dynamic. So often I have seen and experienced D/s relationships landng themselves straight in the gutter due to little more than lack of consistency.

Why does this happen?

How does this happen?

I think, that for many it happens because we set unrealistic expectations for ourselves or our Dominants (or submissives). With Syr, we focus on crafting our D/s and how we relate to each other as Syr and little girl, as Owner and owned, around what is best for us both.

There are hurdles, to be sure. When aren't there?

There are times when I get little unexpectedly now (something that never used to occur for me before). I mean, I could be going about my regular day and 'boom' I have plumetted into sub-space and when I get little unexpectedly like that, I have found that I often need extra attention from Her.

It's a learning process and my 'experience' in the lifestyle before Syr is seemingly meaningless because this is a dynamic unlike anything I've ever known. Our power exchange is present in everything we do, though sometimes not obviously so and that definitely has it's benefits, and it's challenges!

But the truth in this quote strikes a chord deep within me.

If every night before sleep, I whisper to Her: "I love You, Syr. Goodnight, Syr.", it will become habit. If every time I wake, I ask Her permission before climbing out of bed, it will become habit.

Some of the acts of service, of slavery that I have found most impressive, that I have felt the most intimidated by exist because the submissives or slaves I am admiring have worked to build submissive or service-oriented habits.

They are such breathtakingly lovely slaves because they have taken the time to build these habits, these rituals, these trademarks of their service.

They inspire me.

They awe me.

But, most of all, they remind me.

They remind me that consistency is not just Syr's job, it's mine too. And I happen to find it to be one of my biggest challenges.

But that's what growth is really all about, now isn't it?

Punished...

I broke rules on Monday... a whole slew of them, I'm afraid. They were mostly health related. I am in the process of a weightloss journey and Syr helps me by enforcing rules we designed together. Well, I broke many of them. The result was that Syr handed down punishment, which I was grateful for, though I don't much like the punishments themselves. Yet, I am grateful because Her punishments mean that She cares, that She's paying attention, and that She won't let me slip and slide too far out of control. That's important to me.

No chocolate without permission.
No orgasms until the weekend.
And a 500 word essay.

Ouch. She almost denied me the priveledge of sleeping in the light neoprene wrist and ankle cuffs She bought for me, something that was only recently instituted as a nightly ritual. That is a ritual that I treasure and once before She punished me by denying me the right to sleep in them. It struck me deeply, so it is effective, but I am glad I didn't lose that priveledge this time.

I am doing okay without chocolate, though for some reason I find myself craving it far more now that I know I can't have it.

I am doing less okay without orgasms. I am usually allowed to masturbate to orgasm (once I've asked permission) nightly when we are seperated (which at present is approximately 5 nights a week).

And, I did finish my essay this evening, and even approached 900 words with it, so I hope that She is pleased.

I love You, Syr.

I love You, Syr.
I want to serve You, Syr.
I want to submit to You, Syr.
I want to experience pain that You give me, Syr.

I want to experience pleasure that You give me, Syr.
I want to surrender to You, Syr.
I want to be punished by You, Syr.
I want to be rewarded by You, Syr.
I want to please You, Syr.
I love You, Syr.

~*~*~*~*~*~

One of my tasks is to come up with something once per week that I must read out loud to Syr. This rule was created by Syr as a way to work on my difficulty speaking to Her from my submissive headspace. It's not an easy task and the above was one of the last ones I wrote for Her.

I read it to Her for the first time on Saturday. She liked it, and I have been tasked to memorize it so that I am able to say it to Her whenever She asks it of me, but at least once per day.

I really loved that She decided to do this, as difficult as it is for me, because it instantly puts me in a softer, sweeter sub-space. It is effective.... and also incredibly intimate.

I read it to her tonight (as I had not yet memorized it) and was not surprised to find myself suddenly very very little (little is a word I use to define my sub-space). I hope this ritual sticks around for a long, long time.

~alena

Our Story

Syr and I 'met' online in a completely unexpected place over two years ago. We connected instantly and, while neither of us were looking, we found ourselves connecting from the beginning on a Dominant/submissive level.

While I had years of formal BDSM experience (as a bottom, submissive, and slave), She had none.

Despite my experience, and Her lack of, we found that we meshed perfectly with one another. Over time, what began as harmless flirting became play partners and friends and then eventually we discovered we had fallen in love.

On January 23rd, 2006, Syr presented me with her 'collar' and I became more formally Hers, though I was Hers even before that moment. Her collar is a delicate sterling silver figaro bracelet that I wear on my right wrist. She picked it to match a heavy figaro sterling silver bracelet I had bought her for Her birthday in 2005.

Fast forward to today, and you will see a happily married queer butch/femme couple. We function as any couple does. We have everyday stresses just like everyone else. Our world is not seperated or segregated between our 'vanilla' world and our 'kink' world. It is all one.

I am always submissive to Her, regardless of how much that submission is displayed at any given time in any obvious way. She is always Dominant to me, also regardless of any obvious displays.

Sometimes, our kink is very subtle and survives on the smallest nuances and softest gestures: a look, a touch, the way we hold hands. Sometimes it is slightly more obvious, like the way I make Her coffee for Her. And sometimes it is more obvious still.

Our relationship is that of Owner and owned, of Dominant and submissive, and in my heart, no different than a Master/slave dynamic although we choose not to use those words.

She is my Syr.
I am Her little girl.

This space exists because I wanted to have a place for the obvious and the not so obvious, I wanted a place to talk about my submission to Syr, of Her ownership of me, and of our loving Dominant and submissive relationship.
This is our story.

~alena