Life Beyond

A few discussions with some close friends have dragged up some stuff that I thought I had addressed from the upheaval that dominated my life at the end of April. I hadn’t even noticed it, but there were a few gems festering in my psyche, just waiting for the chance to break free from their bonds and run amok in my brain, making me appear to suffer from a case of emotional Tourrette’s.

The biggest one was another run at being abandoned. And it’s sadly hilarious that this would even be an issue for me, because I was so fucking good at denial that for ten years (at least!) I had myself convinced that despite all the indicators for abandonment fears, I was most certainly NOT a member of that large and infamous group of sufferers. Nope, not me. Baggage, yeah, but none about abandonment.

I should have been a politician, because those were some whoppers of lies I told myself all that time.

I am terrified of being replaced in N’s life. When I am confronted with a situation where my typical “job” or duty for Him is done by someone else on a regular basis I feel expendable and aimless, ripe for discarding.

Part of it is a section of self-esteem that hasn’t rose quite as quickly as the rest of it.

Part of it is the esteem I tend to hold Him in.

Part of it is the fatalistic pessimism that runs my life.

And a huge fucking part of it is the self-loathing and self-shame I still carry with me like a can tied to my tail from way back when I was seven.

Despite His assertion that He needs me just as much as I need Him, I can’t help but think someone as wonderful as Him does not deserve to be saddled with me. He’s hot, He’s smart, He’s funny, kind and one of the best people I have ever met. It is hard for me to accept the idea that He considers our relationship together to be on equal par as far as worth and deserving of each other. He deserves so much…and I don’t know if I will ever be enough.

He says I am.

God I just so desperately want to believe, to have the peace of mind a person has when they are secure in the knowledge that they are loved deeply and are worthy of that love…

And the worst thing is having to be on guard, knowing that if I don’t watch myself, I will destroy the very thing I cherish above nearly anything else. It will become a self-fulfilling prophecy because I will break everything apart so I don’t feel the anguish and terror of being left behind again.

Better leaving than being left. At least, in crazy land.

I know it takes time to change such deeply held beliefs. At some point in my life, I will declare myself worthy of love and affection from Him. I will stand up and be able to fully bask in the relationship we have nourished. I will be able to really hear Him when He says forever.

I won’t have hope anymore. I will have sincere conviction.

But it is so hard to have it there just beyond…so close. Like the forty year wait at the edge of Canaan, I can smell the milk and honey. But there are hardships and hard lessons to be learned before I can cross into the promised land of supreme happiness.

And there is a darkly humorous part of me that just has to laugh at the idea of me having to be right that I push the love of my life away, just so I can prove that He was going to leave anyways. See? Sick, dark morbid humor. At least I can still laugh at my stupidity. 😀

And the Getting is Good! (04-20-2010)

Battered but better.

So, it’s been awhile since i posted. i’ve been a busy slavebitch in a number of ways. He’s had me running from sun-up to sun-down, and then a bit beyond that.

i wrote my last post from a very insecure, anxious and torn up place. i have made my life as His slave my calling, the purpose of my life from which all things flow. i misinterpreted His actions of the last month as seeing me as an unnecessary part of His life,  an option, a tiresome obligation. A common saying is “Never make a person a priority when you are an option” and boy did that really get the mind running. i could feel it building and cracked down to squelch the feud. Resentment was rampant. Fury wasn’t far behind. i balked. i yelled, i cried, i turned away,  i retreated. He stood there and asked “What the fuck?!” He never went anywhere, and eventually i was forced to confront my issues and clue Him into the torturous maze of my mind. After a lot of heavy lifting and memories i would have rather not gone through, i finally hammered out an approach. We had it out. He mentally smacked me around a bit for being so obstinate and dense. i reminded Him that while yes, it’s good to be King, it ain’t as easy as it’s cracked up to be. There’s work involved, and when He decides to take a sabbatical, well, the property is bound to come undone a bit.

Basically, it boiled down to He had mentally gone away, and i was left to my own destructive devices. Then when He looked up and said “What the hell happened to you?!” i shrugged helplessly and said “You left.” It hurt to say it. It hurt to lower the pedestal He rests on. It hurt to accept that i am not a good enough slave for Him to be able to check out of the O/p shit for a few months and come back later to find me still running along right where He left me. It is what it is, yes, but it still hurts, and not in a good way.

Speaking of being hurt, i was. A lot. He whomped on me a few different times.  With lots of deliciously degrading sex, malicious molestation, intimately infiltrating my mind again. i’ll be writing that up for a different post. 🙂

Now He’s back. He’s been easing into the active presence in my life again. Rules are actually enforced again. When He tells me to shut up, He means it. He’s kept me busy in the evenings instead of letting me have full rein on my time. After having my life to myself, it’s a bit of an adjustment to have Him in full form again. Tongue and lips have been gnawed to keep unwelcome comments to myself. Ultimately, we will be better off for this.

i know it is hard for both of us when things break down like that. i am so very thankful that He is willing to put in the extra effort to put the pieces back to together when i fall apart and take everything with me.

My Idea of Torture is not His Idea of Torture (03-29-2010)

i’ll set the scene for everyone: two exhausted parents, with way too much stuff to do and not enough time to do it, finally convince someone to take the kids for a night. This is on par with the planets aligning in a straight line.  Whatever do you think they will do whilst the children are away?

I can assure you of this: it ain’t sleeping.

That’s right, I conned sweet-talked my dad into taking all three of the anklebiters for a night so The Man and i could finally relate to each other on a plane different than Dad and Mom. When i got back from dropping them off, i was elated and anxious, if i’d had a tail i would have been wagging it so hard it would have hit me in the nose.  i’d been asking for a beating like no other…one that would leaving me snuffling and slumped, twitching and walking like an old grandma for a few days. It’s been a long time since a beating like that. i’d been craving one for quite some time and was hoping that this could be my chance to relish getting the snot whomped outta me.

We puttered in the garage, cutting paddles out and sanding them down, laughing and enjoying the camaraderie.  Went inside, He tells me to get the razor: it was time to ‘shear the sheep’ as i so delicately put it.  So He shaves me, and oh, it is such a trust building activity, to let Him get near my nether-parts with a sharp vibrating blade, without trembling in fear or squirming to close my legs from the detached appraising look He has when judging if the job is done. They both are so… invading, so intimate. Remember that word, kids: we will be revisiting it. Anyway, i bounce off to the shower and shave the rest of me, towel off, and start arranging myself into the corset and stocking He picked out. Suddenly we realize that it’s quite late for me to be making a delish supper, so i put on a long skirt, did up my make-up and off to town we went, for supper and drinks.

While i was putting on my face, He came in behind and started to maul me. Lately He’s been in a vicious mood in regards to my poor poor ass…each and every time it presents itself as a likely target, there’s N, pinching and smacking me to exasperation. It’s become such an accustomed thing that i get twitchy and start to press my ass against flat surfaces if He’s wandering behind me.  So when He slid behind me in the bathroom and placed His hands on my ass-cheeks, i tensed and frowned, waiting for the pain, waiting for the assault. Instead, to my flabbergasted surprise, He caressed me gently, rubbing, sliding His hands up and down my hips, inside my shirt to rub and massage my tits, kissing my neck and nibbling on my ear. i would have fallen in shock if He hadn’t been holding me against Him. i could see Him smirking against the flesh of my neck as my mouth hung open with pleasant shock. After nearly a month of ass-focused abuse, this sudden gentleness was so strong and powerful that i was at a loss. Then He strolls away, leaving me witless and trying desperately to remember what exactly it was i was doing in the bathroom anyhow.

We got to town, had a very nice supper complete with chick-watching, discussed going for dessert, but the line was much too long so we headed back home. Once home, i changed into the corset He loves and pranced around the house in a head-stall, collar, corset and stocking, perched on 3.5 inch heels. Played a round of cards that ended with me spanking Him severely  (in points, that is lol). Now part way through this round of cards, He had me go lay in the chair and spread my legs. i immediately blushed and looked down as i did so. Being so exposed…it’s horrible for me. To my absolute shock, He crouched down and proceeded to go down on me.

Cunnilingus in His house is a rare thing. Fine with me, because i don’t find it so appealing. i love to go down on a woman, but to have it done to me, makes me all anxious and shuddery. i worry about being clean. i worry about whether it takes too long for me to come. i worry about being so exposed, so vulnerable, so intimate with another human being. i worry about all those things being horribly abused, like they were 16 years ago.

This time, this time was different. Instead of worrying about all those things, i closed my eyes tight and just focused on Him. What His fingers were doing, what His tongue was doing, what His teeth were doing. This time, i could feel pleasure building in me, so fast, so strong. i could ride the waves as they rocked up and down my spine. He nibbled and tugged, bit and sucked, petted and thrust, and i knew that this time, for the first time in years, i was going to come from a man going down on me. i thought i was going to cry when i begged to come. He growled at me “You better” and i screamed as it rushed through me, He bit my lips and bit my clit and licked and i was ready to just curl up and be done with anything but a very deep nap. He had other plans and stroked me until the rebellion in my pussy rose again, dragging out painful mini-orgasms and making me beg Him to stop.

Finally, He did. And we returned to our card game, which i firmly accused Him of trying to cheat by distracting me.

i know it is silly for property to have intimacy issues. i mean, ffs, i bore Him three kids, He was right there in the room holding my hand and helping me push, He saw me pee on the nurse during the final moments…but i can’t handle the thought of Him seeing me spread-legged and exposed? About the worst thing He can do to me is sit on the couch and say “Masturbate for My pleasure”. When i hear those words, i fervently hope the world will swallow me whole. i can tell Him my greatest fears, let Him beat me black and blue…but drag my feet and shake with anxiety when He tells me to spread my legs so He can play with His toy (me).

i never said i made sense. i am just damned glad that i was able to let go of my neuroses long enough to truly feel the pleasure He was so hell-bent on giving me.

Thank You, Master.

Oh, You noticed that?(06-10-2010)

He thinks of me much more than I realize. And He sees a lot more of my emotional turmoil than I give Him credit for.

Last night we were discussing O/p theology while showering. It had spun off of an  entry I was trying to puzzle out for Insatiable Desire,  about active ownership, whether it was a phase, a personality flaw or something I was doomed/destined to repeat. In fleshing this out, we discussed the various nuclear meltdowns I suffered over the past year, all tied in one way or another from my perceived abandonment of the O/p by Him. Out of the blue He hit me with this gem that made me stop and reasses Him on a whole new level:

“You freak out because you assume that each time I get lazy or have to withdraw from the O/p I’m never coming back to it.”

I never thought He was interested in discovering the whats and whys  regarding my breakdowns. He’s normally a results-orientated kinda guy, less concerned with why I’m doing something and more concerned that I am doing it and in His parameters.  So when He saw right through me like that, in a manner that I hadn’t even addressed yet, (hell, I hadn’t even fully formed the idea that I was afraid of abandonment until maybe a month ago) totally brought me up short.

Now I find myself wondering what else He’s grokked on me without letting me know. How far ahead of me is He? And a little bit of me wonders if He doesn’t laugh at me when I running around chasing my tail, totally freaked out and clueless as to why, and He knows exactly what my problem is and enjoys watching me lose a year or two of my life panicking over the sky falling in. But an Owner would never do such a thing, would they? *snickers*

Oddly enough, I find this kinda comforting. It’s nice to know He isn’t as oblivious to my inner workings as I initially believed. There was just no reason for Him to let me on that He isn’t clueless. I believe it probably gives Him an edge in keeping me in place when I get uppity.

I haz a warm fuzzy, because He never stops leaving me surprised and at least one step behind.