To Thy Own self Be True

When I first met the girl I my first thought was that she was not like other women. Granted there were other women around but she was not like them. Where their actions were what I usually see in women when they are around women who have a masculine energy, they start playing the game of, let’s see who can out talk each other and let’s see who can be the center of attention. She was not like that, she was quite, understated, which is what got my attention. I noticed this throughout the weekend I was there, and I liked it. Needless to say she was the perfect mix of sass and seriousness. I was thrilled upon coming back home that she sent me a message and wanted to talk with me, since I really didn’t get to say much to her that weekend, but that’s a whole other story. So we emailed each other, a lot. And then we moved on to calling each other and talking even more. When people met and say they talked about everything I always wonder what that means? Well, I now know. What was interesting to me was that even though we are interested in living and have lived in a power exchange dynamic, we didn’t talk about those things until two months in, that’s to say at least our own person experiences.

So here we are six months later in each other’s company. Her visit was supposed to be three weeks back in July but here we are in September. I’ve asked her to stay longer, because I believe people can’t really get to know a person in the span of three weeks. I’m not knocking anyone who thinks they can know a person fully in three week and will call bullshit (at least in my head while smiling and wishing them well). But I know me, and although we’ve talked for months on end before she came to visit and continue to talk on end hell we have conversation about how much we talk. I can say she, like me were telling the truth about ourselves, we are and continue to be the people we said we were those many months ago on the phone.  That’s not to say we are skipping through a field of daisies, we are in New York and there are bound to be a pothole ore two you step in, but we talk about it then move on.

This will continue to be a work in progress, but the first step for us has been to thy own self be true, and thy must be true to the person thy wants to establish a power dynamic with as with.

i wrote a post yesterday and it got eaten.  Sad Face.

Anyhow….

Today, i had a really interesting experience.  i was walking home from the Farmer’s Market, happy with my fresh tomatoes and basil.  i was just enjoying the chilly air, the beautiful color of the sky, thinking that i missed Her already and about the list i needed to get done.  Then something unexpected happened.

i saw- briefly- the shape of a woman and thought in an offhand way that she had a nice figure.  i admired her shape and the quiet confidence she showed.  And then- it dawned on me that the reflection i noted was my own.  i just sort of stood there a moment, touching my skirt as if to confirm.  Yes.  Me. 

It occured to me that what has changed is not really about how i look.  It’s something more important than that.  What has changed is how i see myself.  i see myself the way i am instructed to.  i see myself more the way she sees me and it shows in my posture, my softness.  Surprising. 

i marvel at how far she is inside of me for it to effect my own self image in ways i can barely comprehend.  i appraise myself with the same calm, honest way she approaches me.  i notice what she likes first.  Perhaps best of all…when i realized the reflection i admired was-infact- me….i did not diminish myself.  There was no urge to be critical with myself.  To deny that i saw a measure of beauty and grace.

i had feelings of self worth and being comfortable in my skin before i met SR, yes.  But i am her wild orchid girl and can see that i have grown under her careful attentions.

Yesterday, i wrote about how much i need the glorious pain she gives me.  i wrote about how it felt to fight her back, fight hard, and absolutely loose.  i know i got angry and had a near panic attack when the rope came out to secure me.  i know i had a moment of sheer terror when the candle she lit was slipping in the lube and never thought that i could just remove it with my unbound hands, if need be.  No.  Never considered that as an option. 

i joked, later, that we should make a PSA about Consentual Non Consent.  Show my thigh, totally bruised from cunt to knee cap.  Hips to thighs.  My left breast. 

This is how i know that i must have told her “no” while she used me.  Otherwise, i may be welted here and there but am not really bruised much.  i have no control over what i’m saying like that which is why i was worried about her wanting me to speak.  i had no idea i would beg and plead.  i am ashamed to think i would ever tell her “no.”  But no matter.  She will do what she pleases, period.  Which is what satisfies me the most.  i want her to take everything she desires. 

There is always much i can’t access, can’t remember.  Pictures, pieces, they come to me later when i’m alone.  i remember her hand around my throat, her foot on my chest holding me down, the fear making me wet.  The sensation of gasping and drowning.  Ice water being spit onto welted skin.  Fighting it.  Letting go.  Pleading but needing it to not stop.  Never stop.  Even the brief moments of silence as she chooses her next tool makes me feel empty.  Lost. 

The truth is that she has woken up something dark in me.  Something that needs to be forced to take anything she wants.  Something that needs to not enjoy it and yield.  The truth is i have never once tried to leave her bed.  Not that it would matter but even in a reduced state, not fully rational, i have not tried.  Because i need her.  i need to be in her bed.  i need to hold nothing back from her.

i wish i could see her face, know her thoughts, in these moments.

No matter.  We meld into one common thing, a thing without names, pure.

When its all over: silence.  She leaves for minutes or hours and i do not move an inch.  i wait.  i find i like the waiting, the silence.  i am offered a sip of water and left to be still, alone.  Hers.

It always occurs to me, later, that i need to make sure she never feels she needs to punish me.  i break into a cold sweat when the thought crosses my mind.  Honestly, on this point Sir Raven is very gracious so if it happened, it would be entirely my fault.  There is not a doubt in my mind that she would make me cry and i don’t want her to take my tears through my own willful behavior. 

Sir Raven always reminds me that i always am given tomorrow to try again, to show grace, to attempt to make her proud. 

 

i wrote a post …

What’s Love Got to Do With It?

Yesterday, despite my chagrin at the topic, we attended MasT together.  i stifled my eye roll the best i could, because i do try and limit the number of times a week Sir Raven has to say, “fix your face, jade.” 

Drum roll:  When M/s and Love Collide.

First, i have been to these types of talks before and i always end up feeling like odd man out because i do not feel romantic love is a needed ingredient in M/s.  Not only do i not feel its is necessary, i do not even find it welcomed, depending on how the other person expresses their love.  If loving me means that the dynamic is no longer first, i cannot deal. 

Wonder of wonders, i seem to have found the one person who feels exactly the same way i do on the topic, which is to say, Sir Raven feels that loving me means she will be harder on me than any other human being alive.  Except for maybe herself.  Maybe. 

i’m good with that.  Because i find that providing structure, order, discipline and in general not forgetting that i am a slave means love to me.  It’s love in a format that i am comfortable with even though its not the type of love we are taught to expect, need, or want as women.

This morning, we were debating one of the points of the group discussion.  Namely, that people seem to want assurances that the other person will “fall in love” with them “in time.”  She claims that no one knows the future.  i claim that you just know when there is a factor that will preclude your ability to love someone the way they need to be loved. 

She asks how this could be, that i knew in a previous relationship that i was for all time unable to love the other person in the way she needed.  The answer is that i was hoarding parts of myself and because i was able to hoarde myself and my emotions, that signaled to me that i would not be able to give all of myself to her.  And not being able to give all of myself meant that i wasn’t able to love her as a slave.  Also, i resented the small town, uneducated, unremarkable, and rigid dreams she had for my life. 

While Sir Raven agreed that she thought my life with her sounded “a bit hellish” (and that was previously my best relationship experience, mind you) she figured that something could have changed in the future.  Presumably, either i would have changed to a point that i was happy to be living in a cornfield, sans education and grew to like not feeling respected on a human level.  Or she would have woken up one morning and became a Master.  Both concepts are nonsensical to me.

It is because Sir Raven is a Master and because she is as demanding of me as i am of myself and because she has dreams that i can honestly support that i am not able to hoarde myself away.  Or wall myself up.  Or hide from her.  Or refuse her.

And these factors- along with a myriad of others- allow me to love her.  i could hazard a guess that it is partially because i can hold nothing back from her that she is able to like me.  A little bit.

We find a dark romance together.  The most romantic gesture either of us can think of is when she grabs me by the hair when we are both sound asleep to drag me to her.  Hallmark doesn’t make a card for that. 

The fact is that there is a certain darkness to me, to her, and to us.  i respond to knowing, in my gut, that Sir Raven would stop at nothing to get what she wants from me.  She once told me that she calmly remarked to a peer, “jade knows her place.”  It’s true.  But it’s also accurate to say that we hold each other up on this point.  i can’t know my place if i don’t understand it or think it won’t be enforced.  Respect and trust, Control and force, these are the needed ingredients in my life.  Love- in the traditional sense of the word- is not.

This MasT meeting is another reminder that M/s is what the people in the relationship make of it.  When you are already a rebel, you might as well enjoy it.  We are.   

Once in a lifetime

Part of being the one who is in charge is keeping the dynamic first having to, at times do the heavy lifting and by lifting I mean making sure things run the way they should. This dynamic is not about getting my house cleaned or getting to beat on the girl every now and again, it’s about the exchange of power we agreed to and the need we both have for the parts we play in it. No one else is responsible for this, we are.

The comedian Chris Rock said n his stand up men cannot go back sexually and women cannot go back in lifestyle. As the girl and I watched him, I thought it was so true and said so while laughing my ass off. Her on the other hand though it wasn’t true. Then he went on to explain. If a woman does something once sexually with her man he’s going to want it all the time. A threesome for his birthday sounds good, but he’s going to want that when it’s not his birthday. Likewise a woman cannot go back in lifestyle. If a woman is use to going on vacations with her partner, the next one she has must be willing to do the same thing, going out to the opera, once means she’s  go out to the opera all the time.

What does this have to do with a power exchange dynamic? There are some similarities to what the prophet Chris Rock said

As the one in charge if I set up a structure, protocol or have rules I have to enforce them. The other night, the girl asked if I wanted a shower, it’s been humid here and a long day at work a shower sounded real good. She turns on the shower and as I undress and walked into the bathroom. I noticed that my towel was not where she put it previous times when prepared my shower. Now here’s where the heavy lifting comes in. that day was a bad fibro day for her, she was running a slight fever and although she did get her chores for the day done, she had 8 hours to do it I might add. I walked out the bathroom and asked “that can’t be my shower running, since the towel is missing.” She got back up and put the towel where it belonged. It may seem like something minor, but it is what we have set up

This is keeping with our dynamic, what we both said we wanted. Did I care that she wasn’t feeling good all day? Yep I did, but if I let that slide I would not be true to what we are working on having. And maybe on her part she would have noticed and thought what else she could get by with? And even more so, do I really care that she did? So yeah I brought it to her attention and corrected it. If I notice the girl does something that I like and want her to continue doing it, I have to tell her, and then I have to make sure she does it. On the other hand if the girl needs a certain thing, like structure and I provide it in the beginning, I have to keep to it. Good day, bad day Wednesday. It doesn’t matter.

There are things that we may find doesn’t work for us, what did in the beginning may not over time. And that’s cool too. It’s up to us to change it and find what does work.

Being in this kind of dynamic is not for everyone, it takes and certain amount of maturity to do something we are not taught. It takes heavy lifting on both of our parts; it’s not easy no matter how much the fiction says, no matter how much porn shows that it is.

There are a plethora of workshops conventions ect out there for someone to get an idea of how to live this, but the real test is when you are home, behind closed doors do you really know if, this is your beautiful house.

 

Perfectionism and other things…

Together, we are the least least common personality types.  i am the least common and she is found in less than one percent of the population. 

We are both Introverted, deep thinkers, and perfectionistic.  Obsessed with symbolism and how things do- or do not- function.  The major difference is Sir Raven’s personality type is more apt to be analytical about how things work.  i am more likely to analyze how people and relationships work.  It sounds like a recipie for a perfect disaster to me though evidence suggests when we find each other, which is rare, it works well.

It’s interesting to me that we are both seekers of perfection in our relationships.  She is vested with the gift of figuring out how to tweak things to make them work and perhaps inclined to be interested in the mechanics of how to chase me around the bed with a cane, making me move this way and that, just because she can.

i am more inclined to be a gifted writer (ha) and to be interested in showing my emotions through sexuality.  Which, for me, is not true.  Unless you replace the idea of sex as a means to erasing the barriers between us with the idea of S/m to serve that function.  What i like best when she uses me is, ironically, not when i’m enjoying it.  It’s not when i’m riding the meditative wave of pain and pleasure as twin forces of rapture.  Not with her.

What i like best….and this is particular to us…is when i have come undone.  Begging until she drags me back, forces my legs open, slams me around, and is unmoved by my pleading.  Undone.  i like that she is comfortable showing a force that most people lack the stomach for.  i like that i can request to be used but once i’ve done that it is out of my hands entirely.  i like that i used to be a naturally stoic-type person but have found a voice.  A voice that welts and bleeds. 

For what seems like years yesterday she beat me.  i am aware, at some point, that my moans have turned to “please, please, please, please, please” as if its the only word i know.  And it might be.

i think she may have asked, once, “please what, jade?” but i have no idea if my mouth finally formed the words “please don’t stop” in total disregard of my body’s futile efforts to move away.  Or maybe i answered by covering my face with my hands and breathing into the strokes until i was a wilted, rumpled, welted, peaceful woman-child.  Past care, unmoving, wide open- there is nothing more i need in this world.  This thing….this dance….might be our perfect.

 The objectification is patently pleasurable to me and so is the tangible evidence, our tacit understanding, our mingled desire, manifesting itself into each stroke.  Searching each other out, hunter and hunted. 

Today, i am halfway through my hour of yoga, breathing into each pose.  Hero’s pose, downward dog, child’s pose, upward dog, swan, firebird. 

i don’t want to do it today.  i’m stiff, sore and briefly contemplate not doing yoga today.  Over ninety percent of the time, i focus on wanting to please her and that gets me through anything that needs to be done.  The rest of the time, i focus on the likely consequences of not pleasing her and that does it. 

i’m trying to still myself into each pose, trying to be conscious, returning to my center.  Glancing down at my form and trying to straighten more into the swan pose, i notice that i am bruised from inner thigh to knee cap and stare.  Yes, she is my center, my home.  The bruises are a beautiful reminder but have me laughing that i made a good choice to be doing what i am told.  i don’t want to her to feel like she has to punish me.  i need to know that she is capable of doing it and i have no doubt of that.  Sir Raven is ten times more gracious than i would be in her boots.

Because of the pain i live in, i am deeply appreciate of the hours of relief i get from her attentions.  It is the only time i am pain-free.  i am also deeply appreciative that Sir Raven insists that i do things correctly and expects me to be focused.  That she doesn’t overlook small details means i can trust her with everything.  i need her control and i seem to thrive in it.  And so, i pay attention to each yoga pose and am focused when the instructor asks, “will you see an obstacle as an opportunity today?  If you can loose fear, what would it look like?” 

When i bow namaste her face flashes before me and i smile. 

   

Jade’s Thoughs on Being Informed

We do indeed talk.  We talk about everything.  We even talk about talking (laughing).

So, when i needed to talk in depth about my fibromyalgia pain disorder, i knew that Sir Raven would listen to me.  The problem was, i found it very hard to discuss this.  i didn’t have a problem explaining the pain with a nearly clinical level of detachment.  i didn’t have a problem answering questions.  What i had a problem with was explaining how important i felt it was for us to put the dynamic first, especially in the face of a nearly debilitating pain day.

i take a lot of pride in taking care of her house, meals, laundry, errands.  i knew that i would hold up my end of responsibilities, damn near come hell or high water.  i also knew that sometimes it would take hours to complete a simple project or that i would need time to make lists to not forget orders for the day.

Explaining those things was not too complicated.  Sir Raven asked thoughtful, reasonable questions but i was holding my breath, waiting to get to the important part.

When she asked what i need from her, to be supported in my tasks, i was barely able to speak.  My voice was strained with emotion because i knew exactly what i was asking for.  i knew it was the right thing-for us-and i also knew i would never be able to unring this bell.

i needed her assurance that she would not expect any less from me, regardless of how she might want to spare me additional pain.  Sir Raven is certainly a Sadist but she likes to inflict pain on me, not watch me made miserable from something she cannot control.  Because her being in control is so vital to both of us, it becomes even more important on days that the symptoms are the worst.  i am not too great, yet, about pointing out that i’m having a horrible pain day.  It feels bad to me to express that and i cannot quite identify why.

Yesterday, i woke up running a fever and feeling like i had the flu.  i spent the day reading and re-reading the same chapter for my class because i couldn’t recall what i had just read.  i cleaned the house and prepared a meal.  i did yoga but i spent at least an hour begging myself to get it done.  i could have-and should have-texted Sir Raven to tell her the day was brutal.  For one thing, she actively wants to know what is going on with me.  For another, i have learned that i need to request that she uses me, as somehow the pain that she gives me helps my body cope and helps my mind clear.

It was very important to me that i gave her the chance to know what she was walking into with me before she got into it.  i don’t know how well you can prepare a person who cares for you to make you do something that is going to be damned miserable.  Like yoga.

This morning was also pretty rough.  Just the idea of doing yoga makes me want to scream even though i know it will ultimately help.  Sir Raven reminds me to do it (even though it’s a daily requirement), to meditate today, and inquires if i made a list last night for what i need to do today.

And though i would like to curl up in a ball and would rather have a needle shoved into me than do a needle pose today….we both know that i will do it.

i can choose the easy way or the hard way….but ultimately….i will do what is expected of me.

It makes me feel safe and that when things feel overwhelming and out of control, she’s got me.

Today, might get better pain-wise.  And it might not.  If it doesn’t i’m gonna send that text…but in the meantime, i sent one of thanks because i am truly thankful.

It can’t be easy for her to see me in pain but it is a genuine act of caring to insist that i continue to give all of myself.  In a power exchange, i think its more important how things are handled when something is hard rather than when it’s easy.  Chronic illness is hard but there are gifts in everything in life, including this.

Today, i will demonstrate that i trust.  i trust her to know what is best for me, even when i want to scream “no.”  i trust myself to submit and surrender, even when it hurts.

 

 

 

On being Informed

The girl has been here in NY since July and although her stay was for three weeks it has been changed twice and now for the third time I’ve asked her to keep her flight open. You may be asking why? I’d like to say it’s complicated the catch phrase it seems for everything that sometimes really isn’t. Here’s the short answer. We want to work on having a relationship and to do that you need more a couple of weeks. We live in different states and although we don’t live in the time of carrier pigeons I felt that we needed to be in each other’s company to really see if this is something we can do and most importantly want to continue to do. So I’ve asked her to stay a bit longer.

Before she came I had reservations about how she would get around the city. I didn’t give it much thought in the months we had talked. When we started talking with each other there was a conversation that was strained. She was a bit closed off, not her usual talkative self. With some prodding she was able to let me know what her concerns were. We had been in each other’s company  once before, but as we began to get to know each other better and found that we had so much in common and things progressed she became apprehensive. She was concerned, and rightfully so on her part. She suffers from fibromyalgia a medical disorder which causes her pain at different levels. There are days that she can push past the pain and days that she can’t. She may have a fever due to it and then there are days she is forgetful. Her concern came from:

  1. Her wanting me to have knowledge about this before we went any further, and
  2. If we did go farther she didn’t want this to interfere with our dynamic.

I’ll get into how it does interfere later. But her concern was more on the power exchange part.

1. Am I going to take pity on her because of this disorder? No.

2. Am I going to treat her any different then I would anyone else? No.

3. Are my expectations of her going to be any less? No.

She needed to be reassured that I would be capable to keep our dynamic first no matter the situation. And for my part when I answered her questions I needed to know that I could as well. Being five hours away from each other and on the phone anything is possible, but being in each other’s presence is totally different. And then there’s the issue of her being legally blind. Which I knew and didn’t have a problem with, actually I didn’t give it much thought, until it got closer to her coming to NY.

Getting to know each other means for me and apparently for her being informed. Informed about everything, and I do mean everything. The term building a relationship is just that, building. Ours is not a one night stand, where the most important thing you need to know is when their last AIDS test was and if they have any STDs?  Ours is not about lust were we are all hot for each other and the brain is firing off some chemical and we jump into a “relationship” only to find the chemical has faded and we are in this thing. What we want is a power exchange relationship.

And so we must take time to dare I say talk, and even more listen to be informed. Informed of our health, expectations goals and aspiration, for our self and each other.

More to come.