A View from the Floor

Let’s see…

We went to a party the other night that included old friends and some new and I got a compliment on my blog. (I don’t know if I said thank you. Bad puss. Thank you, R.)

Anyhow…

Point being that I sometimes forget that people I actually know read this thing. I usually feel pretty anonymous when I write. And I guess I used to be. Back when I was lucky to have three or ten readers a day. Even when it crept up to thirty I felt like I was just kind of talking to myself and the occasional friend who popped in from time to time.

All of a sudden I’ve got hundreds of folks reading every day and I have to admit it feels a little weird.

I’m sort of like… “oh my gods… what on EARTH do I have to say that brings all these different folks my way?”

Not that I’m complaining. I find it pretty cool most times. (Could y’all find a way to keep the religious freaks out of my mail box, though?) But sometimes I sit here and I’m like… “I need to find something good to write about so I don’t disappoint everyone… think, puss, think…. ”

And then I realize…

Fuck it. Writing for the entertainment of others has never been my thing. I rant and rave and babble and ponder and let things spew out of my head and it appears people sort of like it. So it’s silly to change it or feel pressured about content.

Point?

I’m glad y’all read me and like what you read and I’m gonna try real hard not to change what appears to be working just fine. K? K.

On to the topic that’s been floating around my head since the weekend.

I’m a little bit manic about my personal space. Always have been. Between being more empathetic than most and somewhat of a prude when it comes to casual sexual touching I’ve sort of built this wall around myself. My friend Rainie told me straight out once that it’s very like a visible sign on my forehead that says “Back the fuck off”.

Now, as I get to know people, that wall comes down some.

We’ve got a group of friends (most of the old MARC crowd) that we’re very huggy, kissy, gropey, lovey, touchy with. But it’s a playful touchy, not really sexual. We’re comfy with each other, yanno? Although I”m probably the least touchy of the group. I”m also the biggest prude and the only one who’s not really into multi partnered stuff so that makes sense. I just don’t feel sexual about anyone besides Taylor and haven’t since I met Taylor. That’s not to say I don’t like to snuggle a nice, soft woman on occasion or reach out and fondle a gorgeous breast. Not to say I don’t like being wrapped up in a pair of strong, manly arms for a hug or get the occasional ass or booby grope of my own. I do! But I’m always the first to pull away, to feel odd about it, to feel when it’s “enough”.

So, I’m babbling now.

I have a point, I swear.

This weekend was a little like jumping a small hurdle for me. In many ways, actually. Taylor and I had our first hard flogging scene in years and it was far more wonderful than I expected it to be. I jumped right over the hurdle of worrying about how much I could take and just enjoyed it and that felt fucking phenomenal. But I also hopped a little hurdle in the touchy category.

I got touched a lot after our scene - even a little before it - and it actually felt good. I was a little nervous but I clamped those nerves down and just let it be nice and… lo and behold… it was!

I think I have this stupid fear that if I let people touch me a little they’ll go too far. That someone is gonna reach down between my legs and grab my puss and then I’ll have to deck them. (Cuz I doubt that’s really ever gonna be okay with me if it’s not set up in advance) And this weekend, surrounded by friends I really adore, I realized that they really do know me well enough that they’re simply not going to do that. They’re not going to do anything I”m uncomfortable with and I should just shut up, trust that and enjoy the sensation of being touched and admired.

And that, folks, is a hurdle for me.

Now pat me on the back and tell me how proud ya are!

And remind me to come back to the thoughts about including someone else in our scenes / letting someone else torture me later in the week, k?

Too sleepy in the brain to write much today and I’ve already done a post over on LJ.
Taylor plumb wore me out, I guess.

Bored? Dying to read more of my babbling?

Head on over for a peek - Abnormal Pleasures

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“I feel a good submissive should be like an Italian Courtesan of the middle Ages. Loyal, obedient, subservient, and if you mistreat them they slit your throat before you have a chance to apologize.” ~Author unknown, lost or forgotten. Apologies.

Not exactly a popular sentiment, I’m sure. After all, most of those Masters and Dominants out there want us to believe that if they mistreat us, hurt us, or cause us unnecessary suffering it’s acceptable - part of the dynamic, in fact - because, hey, we agreed to this, right?

Bah.

I say bullshit.

In my reading of blogs and forums lately there seems to be this running theme. A theme of Masters changing their minds about basic, core elements of their relationship. A theme of them causing their girls a whole lot of anguish over certain elements that were never agreed upon. Or elements that certainly were agreed upon but he’s suddenly changed his mind and, well, she’s the slave. She must accept that.

Bah.

Now I’m the first to admit that things change. People change. Our wants and needs and expectations change. Our perspectives change. Even our limits expand and change. All of that is normal and healthy.

What is not healthy is shoving those changes upon someone else, forcing them to comply with things that cause them physical and emotional harm just because that person has the submissive role in the relationship.

Newsflash.

Being the Dominant person in your relationship doesn’t mean you get everything you want.

And it sickens me to see so many who think that’s exactly what it means.

M/s, D/s, Gorean, Alien, whatever…

A relationship is still a relationship.

In a relationship it is right and proper to put the well being of your partner over your own desires. EVEN when you’re the Dominant. Probably MORE so when you’re the Dominant. After all, a submissive is far more likely than a normal woman to bend until she breaks in order to please you and keep you happy. It’s your god damned job not to break her.

Now I’m not saying you Dominants should give in every time she sheds a tear. Gods, no. For a great many of us the struggle is half the thrill. The harder something is the better, many times. And if you don’t allow us to struggle now and then the entire power structure becomes skewed. We know full well that a tear will get us our way, that we actually hold all the power in our tears. And that’s fucked up. That’s not what we want. That actually makes us miserable.

But, by all that is sacred, you guys really need to figure out that being a Dominant does not make you God. Not even God in your own little world. You do not have the right to damage someone just because you want something to go your way. Or maybe you do have the right. Maybe your relationship is set up in a way that allows such a thing. Does that mean you actually have to do it?

Sometimes my heart just bleeds for some of these girls out there.

And there are a lot of throats I’d like to slit.

It’s one thing I have to say about Taylor, one area where I can give him the biggest gold star they make.

He will NOT damage me to gain something he wants. He may hurt me - and I’ll likely thank him for it. He may bend me - using every tool he has at his disposal including my basic submissive nature, my love, my need and my dependence upon him. But he won’t break me just to satisfy some whim of his.

“Submission is giving him the Power to destroy you and Trusting him not to.”

Shame on you - so many of you - for breaking that trust.

And shame on so many of you for letting them.

Let’s start with some official stuff.

“Ahem”

I’ve officially written more blogs so far this year than in either of my previous years of blogging.

So…

Yay me!

And now, onto the serious shit.

Much advice lately about moving along in my life a little and finding something other than being a housemouse to occupy my time.

Valid points from intelligent folks.

Here’s the problem;

I don’t know what I want to be when I grow up!

I’m simply not all that good at all that much. :0 (Sure, the medical stuff, but you guys have NO idea how much I loathe that field.  When I’m working in it I tend to come home crying every day. Not a good career path to follow)

And, yanno, there’s just no getting paid to write blogs.

And…

I dunno.

I like being a housemouse.

I think I just need to work, most of all, on my own mindset and this weird depression I’ve been in. Work on my spirituality and my activity level and my hobbies instead of sitting here, catering to the little voice inside that insists I don’t want to do a damned thing.

And Taylor and I DO need to work at stepping up the D/s a bit, getting out of the routine and making ourselves some excitement.

I dunno, I dunno.

I hate having written this blog here. This is my deep, meaningful place, damn it! My soap box!

Meh. Now it’s all full of…

pitiful trivialities.

Y’all suck!

I promise to write a deep, dark, opinionated, punch in the gut post soon. Honest.

~peace

…type so much.

So.

I’ve got nothin’ for ya here today.

But.

I did write over on LJ.

Feel free to browse on over if’n you’re bored.

Abnormal Pleasures

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So a couple weeks back Nikita asked me if I “ever go back and look at the words you wrote a year ago? Evaluate how you’ve evolved as a person in that time?”

And it hit me that - first of all - I rarely go back and read my own stuff. When I write here it’s usually because something sparked the need to write. The words pour out of my mind and fingertips and, usually, by the time I’m done I’ve resolved whatever anger, hurt, angst, irritation or other miscellaneous emotion spurred me to write in the first place. When I reread…  it just seems silly.
I don’t like to read my own writing much. :0
And then it hit me that it’s been a long time since I’ve evaluated how I’ve evolved as a person - particularly how I’ve evolved as a submissive.
And that maybe now is the time to do that.

So, beware, this is bound to be a long post.

And keep in mind that this may not be the best time for me to be doing this. I’m in some sort of weird depression that I’ve been unable to find my way out of. That depression tends to color my entire world and it’s bound to come thru in this evaluation of self, submission and our D/s relationship in general.

I guess what comes thru the most for me, when I introspect on changes, is how different 24/7 is than I expected it to be. (For the record, I’m leaving S/m out of the equation all together. This is about D/s, about the relationship and me and my submission, not about whips and rope and play)

*gasp*
What a surprise, eh?

I think that holds true for everyone.

You hit year three or year five and you realize… 
Holy shit, dude, there’s a lot more normalcy in this deal than I thought there would be.

Why we expect anything else is, at this point, beyond me. I mean, at nearly year six, I shake my head and chuckle when others first begin to realize it. I now sagely warn those just beginning to expect it rather than expecting the more unrealistic utopia we all seem to have in our minds.

But somewhere deep inside it still surprises me.
Or maybe it just disappoints me a little.

Still, it’s reality and reality can only be faced head on.

A lot of the normalcy (read “seems vanilla”) stuff in life and living a D/s relationship comes from experience and routine and training.
I mean…
After the first year or so you learn pretty much what he wants and when he wants it.
Service comes fairly easily (if not always gracefully) because you’re no longer being taught what to do, you’re just doing it.

There are less punishments. Of course, there are less reasons to be punished.
You learn pretty quickly what isn’t allowed. And a decent submissive stops doing the things she’s not allowed to do. So you lose some of the excitement and fear and feeling of being controlled that comes from screwing up and being punished for it.
I mean…  I seriously can’t think of a single time that I’ve done something again after having been deliberately punished for it. Punishment around here comes once - period. I don’t know if that’s him or me. Don’t know if he’d stand for having to punish the same offense twice (I doubt it) or if I just can’t bear to be seen as too stupid and stubborn to have gotten it the first time (highly likely). I guess it’s a combo of both.

There’s also less praise - that wonderful opposite of punishment.
And that’s to be expected, too. Cuz, really…  it’s like toilet training a child. At first you get major excited, laying the praise on thick every time they pee in the toilet. Then you refine their skill, teaching them to wipe and to wash their hands and to make less of a mess. The praise continues but it’s not nearly so exuberant. And, eventually, they have the skill down pat and you don’t need to say “ooooh, Johnny, good BOY, you went poopoo in the potty!” every time they go. Hell, you stop needing to say it at all - otherwise you’d have some highly embarrassed teens a few years down the road.

Same goes with the D/s stuff, the service.

I still get thank yous most of the time but they’re distracted thank yous. A courtesy, really. And it would be silly for him to get all excited and lavish with the praise when I’m simply doing things he taught me he needed done, things I fully know how to do and have been doing for years.

But…

This also turns out to be a huge thing for me.

There’s not much to challenge me and there certainly can’t be much to challenge him and so what used to seem like this wonderful, appreciated service turns into the ordinary.
I feel like I’m trudging along with no highs or lows - which is exactly what comes from punishment and praise. And we all need highs and lows in our lives, don’t we? I’ve said a zillion times that, without them, life becomes bland. You don’t appreciate the lovely balance in your life if you never swoop up or down, if balance is all you have.

And so I’ve discovered that I’ve changed a bit.
The sense of normalcy and balance that I was so happy to achieve a few years ago now seems very routine and unchallenging.

Maybe we need to mix things up a bit. Maybe we need to find new things for me to learn, add new tasks to my life. (And, yes, I’ll admit that even though I found it ridiculous in the extreme I also found a great deal of pleasure in ironing his damned bondage straps the other day. It was something beyond cleaning the house, doing his laundry, making his food, taking care of our finances and getting him kool aid. It was something new, something different, something out of the ordinary that I was doing just for him, just cuz he said so. That felt good. Though I’ll also admit that it pissed me off to not have him say thank you or good girl or….  anything. Then again I didn’t do it the first time he asked so maybe I didn’t deserve any praise…  I don’t know.)

I guess that brings me to the most glaring change I’ve seen in myself.

When I first started all this it was about sensation, about s/m.
Eventually I realized s/m didn’t feel very good without the emotional element of D/s.
Time goes by…. 
Years later I met Taylor and we went the 24/7 route.

And I always thought that I did “this” because I have to. Because it’s who I am. I’m a submissive. In my relationships I MUST be the submissive partner or the relationship fails. I am wired to be controlled and to serve.

But…

Yes, yes, always a but…

Lately I’ve realized that my motivations aren’t quite so pure as I used to think.

Yes, I am still wired that way.
Yes, I still need this sort of relationship for the same reasons.

But I’m certainly not pure in those reasons.

Being controlled makes me feel good.
Serving him makes me feel good.
But when the service comes routinely without any real control being exerted…
Without any punishment or praise…

Eh…
It doesn’t feel so good.

Service alone doesn’t do it for me.
I’m not that sort of submissive.

I…  *gasp*…  need something out of it for myself.

Attention. Praise. Acknowledgment. Punishment for failure.
I need to be noticed.
I need to be valuable.
I need to feel that what I do is appreciated and worth something to him.
I need to feel that he’s guiding, controlling, holding the strings that make me dance for him.
What a selfish cunt I am, eh?
After all…  it’s all supposed to be for him, right?
Bah.
We all need something back or we wouldn’t do it. We only differ in what we need back, not in the need itself.

And, like I said before, I KNOW that he can’t keep effusively praising me for pooping in the toilet…
I’m not blaming him for anything. (And, I swear to gods, the first person to leave me a bullshit comment about how I deserve better, this isn’t the man for me, I deserve to be valued, blah blah blah, this is abusive, blah blah blah is going to get the verbal beat down of their life. I am SO TIRED of people throwing stones at anything less than perfection. Go read a perfect blog. I live a real life and in real life people have occasional struggles. Deal with it or bugger the fuck off to CastleRealm.)

We’ve just both fallen into a routine and gotten stuck.

And so I’ve realized that I need more and new things to do for him. I need to be challenged a little. I need a spark in my every day routine. I need things to do, services to perform, that go beyond the every day routine so that he notices them and feeds me a bit of the attention and control I crave.

I need the words and actions that cement that I AM his submissive, his property and required to please him instead of the dull acceptance of routine we’ve both fallen into.

I don’t know that I’ve necessarily changed over the years.
I don’t think my motivation is really any different than it was.
I think I’m just more honest about it and more knowledgeable about doing this 24/7 and the highs and lows and realities that come with it.

I love being a house mouse.
I love taking care of him and our family and our home.

But I’m bored out of my skull with nothing new to occupy or challenge me.
And I’m feeling under appreciated because the simple things I do aren’t, truly, all that worthy of effusive praise and notice. And yet I need praise and notice. I need to be doing something valuable.

And I just realized that if I really went thru and talked about all the changes in me in the past few years I could fill up seventy five zillion pages and I do NOT have time for that. LOL. Nor do y’all want to read it.

So I’ll end here with a summation.

The biggest change I see in myself and our relationship seems to be complacency - being satisfied too quickly with too little and not continuing to challenge ourselves.

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I should have something to write.

I really should.

But I simply don’t.

I know I was going to get back to the “what do you do for each other?” issue but, after much pondering, I realized nothing we do for each other on a daily basis is all that spectacular.

It’s routine day to day living, day to day service from me and day to day control on his part. And that’s ok with me.

Sure, I’d like some more spectacular stuff thrown in more often but, hell, we’re real people with real lives and real struggles and real jobs to do and a real teenager in the house.

I expect spectacular on occasion - like a slice of chocolate decadence when I haven’t had sweets in awhile - but I’m realistic enough to know we don’t get spectacular on a daily basis. If we did it wouldn’t be spectacular anymore. It would be ordinary.

Ordinary should be ordinary so that we appreciate the spectacular when we get it.

Tiramisu would be boring if I ate it every night.

***********************************

Anyway…

Life around here is settling down into more of a routine than it’s had in a long ass time.

When Taylor and I were doing the roadside assistance gig, life for me was pretty much hell. It’s not that I don’t want to work. I’ve actually been taking steps to get my medical certifications and licenses straightened out. It’s just working with Taylor, on a perpetually on call basis, was very damned stressful.

I had no schedule, no routine, no allotted time to get anything done - and I resented doing a lot of things because of it.

Well, we’re out of that business and Taylor has gone to work with a general contractor and I’m back to being - for now - just a house mouse.

And, man, it feels good.

He’s working long hours and I get a little lonely during the day as I’m used to being with him 24/7 but…

I also get a lot more done every day.

The house has stayed clean (or at least “picked up”). I’ve been taking more time to make myself look pretty. I feel more available for sex - more eager and ready.

There are still things I need to work on to get back to being more service oriented but things are moving along in the right direction.

And that’s a good thing.

We still have our problems and issues but everyone does.

The worst thing being that he’s working those long hours and that leaves little energy when he gets home for “lifestyle” type things.

Can’t do anything about that. We’ll work on it when he’s ready to. We didn’t have time when we were on call all the freakin’ time, either. :0

So there you have it.

An ordinary blog about an ordinary life in an ordinary D/s relationship.

Exciting, isn’t it?

So, yeah, kaya’s post today really got me thinking. And I think she and her Master had a great idea, listing the things she does for him on a daily basis. It made me realize how many things I consider myself to be doing for him that he probably considers just part of daily life, things I’d do with or without him.

I’ve got some pondering to do on it, that’s for sure.

I’ve also decided to ponder what he does for me on a daily basis, as well.

How about y’all? I’d love to hear your thoughts and stories.

What do you do for your Dominant on a daily basis? Things that are for him not the family, service you give him, ways you strive to please him? How do you fulfill your role as submissive or slave in the day to day routine of your life?

And what does your Dominant do for you on that same daily basis? How does he fulfill his role?

I mean, we all know the basics, what we’re supposed to do, what our roles are. But how do we actually fulfill those roles? What do we actually do?

I’m curious.

Like I said, I’ll be making a list shortly but I’m seriously curious about the rest of you and would love to hear your take on it…

~peace

Perhaps it’s the Catholic upbringing.

Though I fell from grace many, many years ago my mind still considers trust and faith to be very separate things.

Faith, to me, is blind. It’s unquestioning. It’s absolute belief without tangible proof of  - or amidst tangible proof against - something. Faith is more emotional and spiritual than intellectual or mental.

Trust is different.  Trust is something someone earns over time. Something proven. Trust is more mental than emotional.

(There is more where this came from … )

Just so y’all know, I AM getting your comments. It seems I have to view them personally before they appear on the site, though, which makes it seem - from your end - as though they aren’t going thru.

They are and I so very much appreciate all the wonderful ones on my last post.

More to come later! Just wanted to pop in and let everyone know their thoughts weren’t vanishing.

xoxo