Good influence

My Master has been a very good influence on me over these last few years. He’s helped me to understand myself better, so i can make better choices about my life and what i want from it. He’s influenced my dress and appearance in ways that make me happier with myself, and more professional-looking too (when he’s not making me look slutty, that is). He’s taught me a great deal about food and wine. Through our occasional travels and my vicarious experience of His, He’s made me more worldly. He’s made me more self-aware, so i observe my strengths and weaknesses, and try to work on maximizing the former and mitigating the latter. He’s helped my sexuality bloom, and taught me how to fantasize. i am a very lucky girl to have such a positive influence in my life.

The Journey

My Master and i have been having some deep discussions lately, spurred by a couple of posts from Gray Lily. A lot of what she writes is rather achingly familiar for us.

This paragraph, although written to describe her Michael, could just as easily describe my Master.

The most important thing to Michael, the most real part of our relationship, the thing that matters more than what he says or does or what ends up happening, is how he feels. The fact that he thinks about me when he is away, that his soul misses mine, is exponentially more real to him than the manner of contact we may have over that same period of time. Loving and wanting me mean more to him than any way in which he could possibly show those same emotions.

This is so true about my Master, that it’s scary. But like Gray Lily, i’m more about the action. As i wrote my Master i’m definitely more of the “yes, You love me, but what does it matter if…” kind of person. Despite His encouragement i’ve never been good at being satisfied with just the emotions.

Unlike Gray Lily, i don’t have the hope of some eventual payoff (although i fear that her hope may be mislaid, and hope that i am mistaken). As much as my heart fights it, i know my place. i know that this is what i get, that there is no happy ever after, at least not in the traditional ways.

And most of the time i’m okay with that.  As my Master has reminded me, relationships are not about endpoints. The journey is what’s important, and the journey we have been on and continue on together has been an amazing one, filled with wonder and closeness and love and pleasure. And pain and longing and sorrow and loss, but this wouldn’t be life without the circle, without the lows that make the highs worth fighting for.

This is what i must try to remember in times like now, when i am struggling to be not only what He wants, but what my dimly remembered memories tell me that i too would be happier being.  That the journey is what matters, even when there is no destination.

Returning to the real world

My Master and i spent a wonderful weekend at Beat Me in St Louis, and i am having a hard time getting back into the swing of my normal life. For a lot of people, an event like this is amazing because it feels like “home” to them, because they enjoy that sense of community and belonging that comes with the “gathering of the tribes” as it were. For us, while it was great to be around other kinky people, neither my Master nor i have that strong need for community reinforcement, so that’s not what i’m missing today.

i’m missing Him, a lot. It didn’t occur to me until this morning that i spent probably 90% of the last few days touching my Master. Wherever we were – at a meal, attending a workshop, we were at the very least snuggled up next to each other, and quite frequently i was snuggled up on His lap or draped over Him in some other way.

Also, i was able to be un-restrainedly demonstrative. Even when we are together in vanilla space, we spend most of our time touching each other, by sitting next to each other or holding hands. But in this space, i could give into the urge to kneel at His feet just because i wanted to and needed to, knowing that no one would judge. We could kiss each other, deeply and passionately, expressing all the boundless love we feel for each other.

It was lovely. As we were preparing to part yesterday, He kept commenting on how connected we felt, and in the moment i didn’t really feel it as that different than how we had been before. But now, with that physical connection a fading memory and only the emotional connection in my aching heart to remind me, i know it and remember it, and try to hold onto it until next time.

Meaning from the Meaningless

My Master and i have been talking a lot lately about the nature of Dominance and submission. How, if you look too closely at it, it can all seem vaguely ridiculous. But if you just DO, instead of think, there’s tremendous comfort and meaning to be found in the ridiculousness.

My Master likens it to spirituality – you just have to have faith. Faith that these things matter, and that they draw us closer to one another. Since neither of us are spiritual persons, this is a stretch for us. But i feel it, when i let go concern, let go of feeling silly for writing Him an email filled with submissive cliches about how grateful i feel to Him for letting me serve Him, for taking me on this journey that has added so much meaning to my life. He feels it, when as in a line from one of our favorite blog posts, he “tells me do impossible things just so he can watch me try.”

D/s – at least for us – is about making meaning from the meaningless. It’s about context. It’s about sexualizing and eroticizing the everyday and the mundane. The D/s dynamic gives meaning to the actions. And then there’s a feedback loop, as the actions reinforce the meaning. And that dynamic works separately, and intertwined, in both of us.

Maintaining the feedback loop can be hard for us, because of our distance, our busy lives, the many things that can take our attention away from one another. But i am happier – my submission more natural and more fulfilling – when i am able to do it. When i can see every action through the lens of my submission and my Master. This is easy when i am doing things for Him – taking my daily pictures, meditating on my knees – but it doesn’t have to stop there. When i strive to do well in my professional life, i do it in part to represent Him well and make Him proud of me. It’s not my only motivation, but it’s an important one. When i find myself wondering or worrying if my Master would approve of my behavior, i should take heed of that internal warning. When i let my submission surround me and fulfill me without self-consciousness, i serve Him as well as i do on my knees with His cock in my mouth.

Trust and Let Go

My Master always gives me very specific instructions about what to wear when i see Him. Packing instructions too. Usually these come the night before a visit, and the uncertainty drives me crazy!

This week He told me a few days earlier what i was to wear when i saw Him. Then followed it up with the comment “I don’t know why I felt so nice just then; generally I prefer you to be in the dark longer, because it keeps you more off balance.”

i greatly protested, trying to convince Him that keeping me off-balance wasn’t really in His best interest. i’m a planner – i like to rehearse scenarios in my head and think about what i’m going to do. When He takes that opportunity away from me, i feel very unsettled. On the edge. Grumpy. Which means i’m not at my best when i see Him for the first time. i feel very vulnerable and emotionally fragile.

And, of course, that vulnerability is exactly what’s looking for. He’s more interested in feeling my submission than in me performing to some desired standard. He strips away my control when He takes away my ability to plan, and He likes it that way. Because ideally, after the emotional fragility comes the realization that He will take care of me, and that i can trust Him completely and totally. Rather than angsting because i don’t have control, because i haven’t been able to plan my actions and emotions in advance, i need to trust and let go, knowing that He will keep me safe, no matter what happens.

A hard one

i knew it was going to be a hard one while i was packing my suitcase. The packing list He’d given me had all of His favorite toys – the riding crop, evil stick, wartenberg wheel, clothespins – and none of mine – the nice thuddy and whippy stingy floggers.

Our room had a bench at the end of the king size bed, which made for a perfect spanking setup. i could kneel on the bench with my upper body on the bed, and my ass was at a very comfortable height for Him to work on.

i was thankful that He started off with a nice thorough spanking, so i was well warmed up before He started in with the crop and later the evil stick. Although by then my mind was not in a place to distinguish one sharp stingy pain from another, and i thought he was still using the crop when i was murmering “please no, please no, please no more,” only later remember that i’d brought the evil stick and that must have been what He’d been using.

Unlike our previous visit, at least this time i didn’t have to support myself – i could melt into the bed and cry out into the soft comforter, unable to just roll away and force a break when things got rough. Forced to give the submission i need to give.

Sometimes s/m scenes feel like a gift that He gives me. And sometimes they feel like something that’s taken from me. This was one of the latter times. Even though He let me play with my clit as He clipped clothespins to my inner thighs, my sore red bottom and my labia lips. As He bit my skin, already tender from the beating. As He fucked me deep with my dildo.

It doesn’t look so bad in the picture. Until you realize that those dark spots aren’t moles and freckles like the ones that adorn the rest of my skin, they’re blood blisters raised over the course of a half an hour of being my Master’s plaything.

All i could think to say when He was done was “So much for You not being a sadist.” We have both changed a lot since we began this journey together, and it makes me really happy to know that He is willing to take what He needs from me, even – maybe especially – when it’s hard for me.

Today He wrote to me: “I love you when you’re taking that for me.  I really do.  I can’t explain it, but I do.” And that made me really happy to read. Because i want to give Him everything He needs.

Hi, my name is lyn, and i’m an overthinker.

My Master regularly accuses me (and correctly so) of overthinking. The other night we had a miscommunication about my trying on some clothes we’d ordered and sending Him pictures, and i overthought myself into NOT trying them on because He wasn’t online, despite Him telling me that i should. When He came back on, after spending on hour looking forward to seeing the pictures, i was already in bed, and He was one very disappointed Master.

More frequently, it comes in the context of  Him telling me to just “be/act submissive,” and me getting all caught up in worrying that i don’t know how. What i’m worried abou really, is doing it *wrong*. i have a little bit of an obsession with doing things right, and right the first time. i don’t like learning curves, and the fact that i struggle sometimes with my submission frustrates me.

Which is, of course, the completely wrong way to think about it, because submission is a journey, not a destination. And, the first lesson He taught me (and continues to try to teach me, slow learner that i am, at least on this topic) is that submission is about letting go.  And overthinking is pretty much the antithesis of submitting.

Coming out of this most recent overthinking debacle, my Master instructed me to write him something about overthinking. “It doesn’t have to be long,” he said. “It can be  stream of consciousness. But it has to be before you go to bed tonight.”

i got two sentences written before i started overthinking about overthinking, so i stopped there and sent it on to Him. As short and sweet as it is, i think it’s a pretty good mantra for those times where i find myself struggling to figure out what to do.

Sometimes i try to hard to figure out what exactly You want from me, and that keeps me from doing anything. Where it would be better for me to just do it, and accept correction or adjustment from You if i was mistaken or didn’t get it quite right.

Let go. Let go of outcomes. Do my best, with submission and pleasing my Master as my goal, and accept that sometimes i will do it wrong. And that that’s okay.

Thank You, Sir.

Service through injustice

Early last week, my Master gave me instructions to wear a particular outfit to work the next day. But i didn’t have the hosiery he was looking for, so he let me wait until i could go shopping. Then i got sick, and it’s a few days later before i’m able to pull together the outfit that he wanted. i was so excited that morning, dressing for Him, with a new jacket i knew He’d love to complement the rest of the outfit.

Except i wore the wrong shoes.

He said Oxfords, i read Mary Janes, and had that firmly implanted in my brain as what i was supposed to wear with my pretty new patterned hose. i never went back to the original email to double check the instructions, because i “knew” what they were, and it can be hard to find one specific email amidst the hundreds we send.

But i did dash off a quick request for confirmation to my Master. “The rest of the outfit is new black skirt and black Mary Janes, right?” He wrote back saying he’d been thinking the gray skirt, but the black would be fine, and i went upstairs to get dressed.

A couple hours later, i’m at work, i send him the pictures, and i have one extemely unhappy Master. He’s been waiting on this outfit for days, and he’s going to be on a trans-Atlantic flight later that day, so – while i can fix it and take the right pictures when i get home – he’s going to be traveling and not able to see them.

He’s annoyed and frustrated, and he takes it out on me. i can tell He’s disappointed and upset as i read His instructions – a long apology from me, then 50 lines of “i will pay better attention to my instructions,” then another long apology.  And “I might punish you more later,” he says.

My first reaction was injustice.  “Sure, i hadn’t gone back and read the email, but i’d confirmed the outfit with Him that morning,” i thought indignantly . But we have been talking a lot about punishment and letting go. That accepting punishment – particular for something that was out of my control or that i don’t think i deserved – was a way of letting go of control.

i wasn’t quite capable of completely letting go – i did have to send a contrite but defensive “i know i should have done better, but i checked with You this morning!” email first. But then i looked inside myself, and found a way to write a sincere and submissive apology, while simultaneously accepting that it was perhaps a mostly injust punishment. After all, i should have been more attentive to His instructions in the first place.

As i wrote out my 50 lines i began to understand that this was less about fault, and more about my Master taking out his frustrations on me. And – here’s the epiphany – that accepting that punishment, letting Him lash out a little, was an act of service and submission. He needed to work out His emotions, and i was His canvas to do that, and the punishment his medium. With that thought, those 50 lines became a meditation on submission and service, rather than injust make-work. When i finished, i was able to write an even more sincere and submissive apology.

Not very much later, He mentioned in an email to me that accepting the blame, letting him take out his frustrations, was a way of submitting. To which i could reply that i’d already figured that out, and thank Him for showing me a different way to serve Him.

Whose body?

Just over 2 years ago, i looked at the scale, didn’t like the number my weight was approaching, and decided it was time to do something about it. 10 months later, i’d lost over 50 lbs and was down to a “normal” weight for the first time in my adult life.

That weight loss is particularly significant, because it’s what led to my becoming my Master’s submissive. At the time we had been in a long-term, but mostly vanilla, secondary relationship. We had a visit coming up, and i lamented to my (now) Master that i had nothing to wear, because i had not had a chance to replenish my wardrobe since losing all that weight. He gave me a budget to buy a wardrobe “suitable for being his sex slave for the weekend” – and what started off as a joke quickly turned into something much deeper and more profound than either of us ever expected.

Since then, there have been many appearance changes that have been mandated by Him, or at least strongly encouraged. Growing out my hair, waxing my pussy, getting acrylic nails. But that first one, that oh-so-profound one, that really amazing accomplishment – that was all me. i decided to lose the weight, and i did it. And while i was happy that it put me closer to being able to fulfill my Master’s fantasies, it was something that was mine.

Fast forward about 16 months from when i reached my goal weight, and i’m finding the scales creeping up. Not very high yet, but something that needs to be nipped in the bud if i’m going to continue to fit in the (now rather extensive) wardrobe my Master has purchased for His slavegirl.

Finding the willpower has been a little harder this time around, so my Master has decided to make this part of my submission to Him. He wants me to lose the weight. i’m reporting to Him what i eat, and my activity level. i am to do this for Him, as part of my service to Him.

One part of me relishes the external motivation. But there’s another part of me that resists, that holds onto the idea that the weight loss is mine. The feminist part of me that bristles at the idea of losing weight for a man (while recognizing the inanity of that position in the face of having my pubic hair ripped out by the roots for a man).

So i work to reconcile all these different parts of me, to accept and embrace that this is not in my control, and that my role is to serve, and to please my Master. That this body is His and no longer my own. That this is just another place to practice the letting go that will guide me to the place i want and need to be. Which is to say, a mewling horny slavegirl, desperate to please her Master in any way He demands.

Searching for submission

Thank you to everyone for the kind comments on my last post. Experiencing that moment on my knees was really truly magical, and made me realize how far i have fallen in my submission, how distant i have become from it.

It’s not completely unexpected. If you’ve read my blog for a long time, you may have been able to read between the lines of my recent posts and realize that my husband and i have separated. And while that’s been a really positive thing (for both of us), it’s a huge change in my life, and it’s spilled over into my submission. Add work and other stressors, and in some ways it’s easy to see why things have been slowly declining in intensity over the last few months.

My Master and i have been doing a lot of talking this week, figuring out what’s happened, and what needs to happen to get back to what we both want and need. Or more accurately, my Master is figuring that out. My job is simply to let go, and let Him take me there.

Letting go is the first lesson i need to relearn. It was really hard for me the first time around, but it’s going a little easier this time. That taste on our last visit has energized me to rediscover the center of my submission. It was just such a profound moment for me, and i realized that i need to feel more of that. And i can only feel it by giving myself over completely to the man who owns me, body, mind and soul.