Best. Date. Ever. Plus, updates.

i’ve been wanting to write here for weeks. It’s just been so busy, while i was trying to keep my head above water scholastically. Grad work is not hard per se, but time management with so much to do really is. i’ve had a few glorious days off, and i have noticed how stressed my brain is. i keep thinking, with a panic feeling, “something is due. Something is due.” And then i blissfully recall that nothing is due.

i’ve been off for less time than my classmates, because i needed extra time for finishing a term paper, for the first time ever. i ended up needing to take one class over (groan) and made a “B” in the other. i was nearly weak with relief when i saw the “B.” Funny, coming from a perfectionist.

Sir Raven has done a tremendous amount to help take my stress level down over time.

She expressed a desire to have me be fully open, fully vulnerable, to her again. i wondered how i would do this and i worried that i would not be able. Right on cue, though i’m thinking it’s part coincidental, my back went out in rare form. i could barely walk, get out of chairs, or bend. The first day, i pushed through, and we went to a friend’s house. It’s a good thing we went, as they gave me some medicine that let me keep moving a little bit. Sir Raven had to help me do most everything for about a week. We live in a walk-up building, and i couldn’t get down the stairs for days. It’s pretty hard to not feel vulnerable when you need another person to help you do almost everything. i was in too much pain to feel anything but gratitude for Sir Raven. i mused that another person may not be willing to help me or deal with a person who does little bit curl up in a ball and pray for three days.

Sir Raven rented a car as well and we shopped for food together, which was a rare treat. She wanted me to be able to do the trip in relative comfort and wanted to buy heavier items and meats in bulk, so i needed to carry less and make fewer grocery shopping trips. She also let me go down the cleaning supplies isle and choose what i wanted. Oh, the bliss. i happen to *love* cleaning supplies.

We also talked about the part of us that is Daddy/girl. i asked if a visual cue might help us, so that i know i can ask for affection and not be pushed away. i can handle that as a woman. My inner five year old, however, is hurt when it happens too often. So, she bought me a lovely blingy bracelet with charms and pink beads to wear. We are still trying it out. i’m a bit gunshy about asking for too much affection but have noticed that it reminds me, at least, to keep my heart open.

We kind of got goaded into an unfortunately long conversation with a friend, who pushed to find out what it was like for me to get physically pushed away. Who wanted to know what it felt like and if i ever got held. i realized, too late, that the conversation wasn’t productive for us. i find that when faced with a problem, i focus on the problem exclusively. i don’t think to verbalize credit where credit is due, because i reason that i do this on a daily basis (and i do). i don’t consider emotions when i’m thinking about a problem. It ends up hurting her, making her feel invalidated. i need to work on that. It certainly did nothing to make her want to hold me, which is what would mean to most to me when i’m sick and in pain.

Honestly, since my wall has come down, and i’m vulnerable again, Sir Raven has responded with frequent touch. Quick hugs or squeezes, touching my hair, holding my hand. It’s very nice, and very noticed. i really should have pointed these things out, rather than focusing on what or when she doesn’t do something. When she calls me “baby girl” or tells me i’m beautiful, i absolutely melt inside. It’s like my cryptonite.

She also noted how much i do around here, which was pretty obvious when i was out of commission for days. The recycling and garbage piled up. The tub was dirty. The floors dirty. Everything was dusty. It was a real mess in just a few days. It made me feel good that she noticed because i do work hard daily to keep her home the way she likes it. She also pitched in and helped, making the bed and cooking dinners. It was hard for me to accept, actually, and the only way i could do it was to think of her as my Daddy. Somehow, that made it a bit more okay.

Sir Raven also planned the perfect date yesterday. We went out together, alone, to the Lion’s Library. It’s one of my favorite places in New York. i like thinking about the men who were locked inside with their fancy cigars until they saw the light. i like thinking of Carrie, in her tremendous wedding dress, coming down the marble stairs. i like thinking of that we are in one of the safest buildings in New York, one that would survive a long time after people, should we all die out.

i love the Lions, and always remind her that i married the Beast and got this library. Heh.
i also love their gift shop, which is where Sir Raven buys Christmas gifts for me. Yesterday, she replaced my ring i can no longer where (chemical sensitivity issue from the meds reacting in a way that makes the finger raw). She chose a lovely wedding band, a posey ring that reads, “You, and no other” in 15th Century French. It’s perfect. i was also thrilled that they had exactly one stuffie Lion, which is now ALL MINE. We decided he must be Fortitude, since i already have Patience. i’m so delighted. They also had the full cast of Classic Pooh, and for a moment it was hard to choose. Daddy said i can only have one, while i had my arms full of friends, hugging all of them at once. Classic Pooh and Classic Eyeore are the cutest! However, i had to choose the Lion, since i’ve been waiting for it for three years. We saw one on our first trip there but i evidently had less girl charms that day or something. Heh.

Since Sir Raven doesn’t believe in Christmas, i get my gifts early! Horrah! She let me carry my lion with me in my hands, and we sat outside the building later. She put my ring on my finger, and we joked about it’s meaning. i suggested it meant i was the only wife she could have (me, and no other). She joked it means that she will share me with no one (true that). i get her, and no other. It kind of delights me, her possession of me, even if there are moments that i’d love to explore outside of us. It passes. The feeling of being totally taken, that she owns me, that my body exists only for her pleasure….that is the kind of thing that always feels good, that kind of possession feels like love. It’s the reason i love wearing a locked collar. i love the symbols of being, of existing, only for her.

When i engraved her cuff, i chose the same sentiment. i don’t know if she thought of that at all, when she choose this particular ring for me.

She is the One for me.

Then, we met friends for sushi and sake. We haven’t done that in quite awhile, and it is such a relief to be around friends who naturally “get us.” i don’t have any non M/s people in my life, but there are degrees of M/s. So, being in the company of another Master and slave who are CNC feels good. It’s nice to feel comfortable as we have similar protocols. She gets away with more, because she is more like a boy, and boys will be boys. Heh. It was just a really nice, hours long, lunch. If Sir Raven had not had to work today, we’d have ordered more saki, and drank til she wanted nothing more than to come home to beat and fuck me. We had to stop short of that (boo!) but she did graciously allow me two sodas! And frozen yogurt, once the Master’s conversation lingered the better part of an hour after we left the sushi place. The upside of the large tips the Master’s leave is that we are left in peace to eat and drink and talk for hours on end inside. Eventually, however, they needed the table and we took our leave. The Master in our company suggested the frozen yogurt shop, because he knows i love it, and it gave us all a place to sit and continue the talk. i think we met them around 3pm, and we got home at ten. Thankfully, i had cleaned up the house before we left and gone shopping. That way, Sir Raven had her favorite snacks on hand to nibble on when we got home and wound down a little bit before we went to bed.

i took my new, soft stuffie to bed and had him in one arm, and Frederick in the other. i am one spoiled little girl! And best of all, in the middle of the night, when i woke, her arms were around all of us tightly.

Thank you, Master.
i am indeed Yours, and no other’s.
i’m so glad you made me open back up to you and your will.
i love and adore you.

Service?

So, my meds got adjusted. i find that i feel a little medicine head, like i’m doped up on cold meds, and a lot of sleepy. The Nuerontin has not been adjusted in five years but i’m still a bit surprised. i have to think of it as a service to take meds sometimes. i swallow them, reminding myself that this is the only way i can perform cleaning or cooking or fucking or anything else that i do.

It is true, of course. i can’t function without medication. It’s also true that the clearest idea that we are, and always have been, CNC is the fact that i got on Cymbalta on Sir Raven’s orders. i’d been offered the med for years and refused in fear. Some of that fear was reasonable, since i lived alone, and didn’t have anyone i trusted to monitor how i was doing. Many of the side-effects that signal danger were normal things for me (fevers, body aches, etc). Sir Raven decides everything at doctor appointments, and my pain management doctor has grown accustom to speaking to her rather than me. Or me turning to her to ask, “honey, what do you want me to do?” and then going with whatever she says. i just nod, as if God Himself had just spoken, and say, “of course, that is what we will do then.” If that isn’t CNC, i don’t know what is. We have morning appointments so i’m fairly miserable by the time i arrive, moreso after they examine me, and am not at all able to process much information. i ask hours later, if at all.

i keep thinking of something my leather sister said, that she heard a Dominant scoff about another slave, “well, everything is service to her.” It was meant to be dismissive.

i think there is some truth to it. If everything i do, or don’t do, reflects on Sir Raven, and if my life revolves around her then how wouldn’t it all be service?

What about the fun stuff?

i can’t control any of that, either. Unfortunately. We’d fuck a lot more if i was in control of that. When Sir Raven has asked me in seething anger if i wanted to be in control, sex is always the first thing that crosses my mind. My knee jerk reaction is to say and feel “NO!” but then a few heart beats later, i’m thinking, “yeah. Let’s start now. We could do with some hot hate sex right this moment.”
i used sex to end fights, to resolve frustrations, to show affection and thanks, for any number of reasons in other relationships. The only thing i didn’t do was use sex as a weapon. Here though i’m powerless to do anything. i don’t know how to speak her sexual language because it relies on visual cues, subtleties that i miss. She doesn’t have sex in anger, anyhow, i suspect because she has a strong rape taboo.
i don’t. i have no compunction there, that wall taken down years ago, because in my haughty femme pride i withheld to be unkind and learned that this has no place in a surrendered life. Sir Raven benefits from that wall having been smashed before i knew her, the same as any other i used to have to protect myself. i wonder if she would have left that one wall standing, would have accepted a “not tonight, dear, i have a headache” in place.

On a somewhat related note, we had to journal about the kind of client we were most adverse to taking on and why. i wrote about my mother and brother being sociopaths and that i felt ill-prepared to work with people who had antisocial personality disorder. My instructor wrote back that i am going to always have a vulnerability to these types of people, to be manipulated easily by them, and i should refer them elsewhere. i snorted when i read her reply. Lovely. i’m quite literally surrounded by people who would diagnostically meet the criterion. i wonder about the truth in the professor’s statement because i constantly wonder why this personality type is so immediately attracted to me. For lack of a better way to put it, we can smell each other, in a predator and prey type of way. A sociopath crossing me on the sidewalk takes an immediate interest, stares into me in a way i can feel but hardly describe. It’s not that i don’t know what they are, what i’m looking at when i see it. i do. i just want to believe that they can learn to develop the instinct to protect those in their circle. It’s rare but i’ve seen it work out that way. i know what i’m looking at but have no fear of it, no ability to fear it. i feel strangely detached, even when i’m the object of desire. Even when i know how far they will go for their own satisfaction.

i can say that when a sociopath takes you into their circle, decides they will protect you, you are the safest you could ever be provided you know their rules and never step outside the circle. When you do, you are open season. They will let you fall hard, knowing that you won’t be able to tempt fate twice.

i almost died trying to get away from my mother. i didn’t even do it for myself, i wouldn’t have had the resolve in place for me. My mother has no circle. She never did. i read somewhere that that is the difference between a sociopath and a psychopath. i can’t distinguish the difference, not really. It smells the same. i’m pulled like a magnet in the same way.

i have been thinking on this for awhile now and can’t seem to get any farther than these tiny understandings. It’s frustrating, like i’m looking at a puzzle that should be so obvious, but it’s not.

Faith

She asked me to have faith.
Faith isn’t something you can try to do or give.

It is the hardest thing for her to have asked me for.

She was right, of course.

i’ve been unwell for awhile, days building painfully, always feeling like my body is trying to fight something. As strange as it may seem, that has helped because it does literally make me vulnerable. Physically and eventually emotionally, as it takes it’s tole on me.

She asked for faith and vulnerability.
For my little girl to come back.

She asked for faith about the collar, about changes she has planned that i don’t know anything about.

It helped tremendously that the collar is back, tarnished as it may be from me and our combined pain.
Hopefully, it will be replaced. In the meantime, i have faith.

My trusting, whole-hearted, adoring little girl is back.
The house is full of laughter again.

Our walls have started to come down and i realize that this means she is vulnerable too.

i feel a sense of responsibility for making sure she doesn’t get hurt.
i tried to explain this, on the train, and did a lousy job of it. And i’m too tired to do a better job, here.

She asked for the hardest thing and i gave it to her.
It took me time and i imagine she had to have some faith, too. That i would or could come back inside.

It helped that she beat me and i cried a little. It wasn’t the cathartic jump off the cliff we both need but it was a strong step in that direction. It’s a very hard thing to make me cry. i love that she is able to moreso than any other person i’ve ever known.

Maybe we are done suffering for each other and are able to move forward.

When we went to a drum together, i could feel her across the room, watching me and feeling joy. Pride. i think that helped as well because a life without experiencing spirituality is no life at all, to me. i just think that there are endless ways a person can experience spirituality and few have to do with anything organized.

How can you have faith without your spirit?

Things are getting better day by day, despite a lot of little girl disappointments.
Sir Raven was actually going to take me to Build-a-bear. i wanted a wolf with a message she recorded for me, so that when i needed to hear something positive or loving, it was there. And they sold out of the wolves!
We missed the Chrysanthemum show (my favorite) and the haunted pumpkin garden.
The library had the nerve to be closed today, when Sir Raven surprised me by agreeing to go into the Shop and see if they had a lion stuffy for me. Boo!
We did have a nice lunch together and that was far, far, far better than running back for the train after the doctor’s appointment. My meds are being adjusted to help me deal with the pain, so that is great news. My doctor seems to like us now and orders a new MRI at Sir Raven’s request. That’s good news too, though i detest having that done. The meds change is making me feel a bit more hopeful.

i gained back all of the weight i lost, plus 6 pounds. i need to have faith that i can relax and trust my body to heal and help me.

When we got home, Sir Raven put me in bed and made me take a nap. i took a really long nap and then worked on house chores and laundry. She surprised me by making yummy breakfast for dinner and cleaned up so i could focus on work. i really appreciate this tonight, more than i can say.

Everything is getting a better, bit by bit, once i let go again. It was more pain and more anger than i could hold onto and still breathe. i needed to let go of those things and have faith in her, in us.
Sometimes, you just have to have faith. 😀