i have found joy in surrender.

It is in everything that i do, with softness and respect.

My path was to see how trying to hide my feelings and focus on all the work and doing that well-it just wasn’t working.  i had to reopen myself to her, abandon hope for anything different, and find the joy in what is.  i had to look at it from a different angle, look at everything from a different angle.

i express gratitude and love every day to my Master, and i always have.  Now, in addition to asking her if she always feels loved, always feels adored, i also ask if she always feels respected.  i ask her these three questions about once every six weeks or so.  These questions guide me daily.

i ask to invite conversation, to see what i can do better, to be certain that love and respect shine through my actions.

In return, Sir Raven is showing me love in spades.  i enjoy the hours we spend just sitting in the same room, enjoy watching her relax.  She is far more attentive and understanding, when i tell her i am sick and ask for help.  Sir Raven has cooked meals, washed dishes, and put a lot of effort into doing things she talked about doing for years.  That final point means everything to me.  The hutch is stunning, yes.  But it is also the fulfillment of a promise made several years ago.

When i told her the pain was more than i could bear, that i needed her attention, and reminded her that the first concept she introduced me to was her demand that i tell her what i need, how much vulnerability that takes, how much damage happened from being ignored-

she listens-

and she acts.

She takes in the information, quietly.  There is no anger in my approach, just honestly asking for help.  A few minutes later, she simply tells me to go in the bedroom and pulls down her whips.  i struggle through taking it, my body is out of practice, and this kind of pain was very rare.  Our previous bedroom wasn’t really big enough, and the pain is so sharp and intense.  My wetness proves my need for her.

And wonder of wonders-

When i beg, tell her i cannot possibly get her dick inside me myself, she slams it in hard.  For a moment, i thought i might black out, because the pain is so intense.  It is exactly what i need-to be open, fully vulnerable, unable to control myself or my reactions, needing her force, needing her.  She tells me to hold it in, which is a nightmare, because i am small and tight and have been kept celibate for years.  My body wants to force it out, but she goes from whipping my tender bits to slamming it back in me.

Emotionally, i’d prefer to be on my knees with her in my mouth and then having her ruthlessly fuck me from behind.  Physically, this kind of force has its charms.  She is free to watch me in abject pain, mixing with pleasure and need.  And, of course, she can expertly make her long whip sear pain through me.

The next morning, for the first time in weeks, i wake without a headache, without that constant pain at the base of my skull.

i feel more peaceful, and thank her.  Everything good comes from her for me.  For days, i felt bruised inside and loved every second of it.  i can hardly say how much i need her, her force, and the joy that comes from surrendering.

Thank you, Master, with all my heart.  ❤



In my meditations, i remembered something important.  When i felt very uncomfortable charging for giving psychic readings, the producer reminded me that people value what they pay for and put work into.  If i gave away my readings for free, it would inherently carry less meaning for the receiver, because of how we link together what is valuable with what we have put time, effort, money, work into.

In Yoruban tradition, kitchen help that works hard is given a little envelope with money, as a way of showing that the Priests valued the help given.  It allows you to have extra to put toward your own practice.  i used mine to buy more white candles for Sir Raven’s Altar, but anything that meets the needs of the Priest is just fine.

i would have been happy to give readings and work an Ocha kitchen for free, and felt funny about attaching anything to my service.  Likewise, i am happy to serve Sir Raven and not have expectations in return.

However, my part in not getting OUR needs met as a couple is in not making my efforts valuable and not expecting anything in return.  i taught Sir Raven to enjoy the same service, the same warmth, the same work-no matter what she didn’t do.   She benefitted in the short term, of course, but in the long run it did both of us a huge disservice.  Sir Raven may dislike the idea of touch, sex, s/m, or asking how i am actually doing on occasion-but she responds to these things.  She behaves in ways that are freer, happier, and her body releases oxytocin just like any other human when she gets physical attention.

So, just like my work in Yoruba and my work in Spirituality, i must value myself enough to insist that i am cared for in return.

This weekend was really great.  i had to drop off my poor macbook with a virus that kept frustrating me to death at geek squad on maybe Thursday.  Sir Raven had come home early, and i suggested she spend a few hours chilling and then we could go out to eat and get my laptop fixed.  She started not feeling well, so we just came home.  i’ve been taking care of her for days-making sure she ate, drank lots of orange juice and emergen-c, took cold meds, had clean sheets on her bed, and she let me rub vics all on her back at night.  She is feeling much better, which is great.

We did talk, shortly.  She agreed that the main issue is that when it comes to me she is lazy and selfish and acknowledged that i’m out of patiently waiting for change because i’ve been doing that for years.  She said she made a list for herself-of things she needs to work on.  She didn’t share the list with me, but did acknowledge that she needed to be responsible for us, too.  We also both agreed that the only way it could actually work for me to get out needs met outside the relationship wouldn’t fix our underlying issues, and could create other problems for her because she would loose a lot of control.  Control is her drug of choice, so i guess she will be making changes, and i will be supporting her in them.

We went together to pick up my laptop late yesterday afternoon, finally.  It was a real pain for both of us that i had to try and work on her laptop instead, which was cumbersome.  i came home and made chili with black beans and corn, and Sir Raven surprised me with asking if i wanted to play.  After the stress of the week, it was a huge relief.  She started with her strap, which i noticed calmed me almost immediately and allowed me to take quite a bit of her canes and other sharper pain, which is pretty important since we have not played in months.  We both really enjoyed it, i felt her sigh while using the strap on me, like her body finally relaxed after holding her breath for a long time.  i think my hunch was right on all accounts to ask for that awhile back.  We both needed the strap to connect us together in a way that  the rest of the toys just can’t do.

Today, i can still feel her efforts, so it should be an interesting ride into Manhattan.  i’m super thankful for her efforts today, because its humid and raining and i’m feeling a million times better than i generally do during this kind of weather.  i’m also just plain feeling loved, taken care of, and relaxed.  Thank you, Master. ❤


Today was pretty damn great.

i got a lot done.  i had the morning chores done, been to the family dollar, the liquor store, the farmers market, and the grocery store by 3.  i was really surprised that Sir Raven was home when i came in and started putting everything away.

She came home early, after a meeting.  Thankfully, she came home to a clean house and i stashed the wine in the freezer while we chatted for a bit and i had a cup of coffee.  Sir Raven has her writers group Saturday, so i asked if she needed to work again, and pointed out that i still had to head out to do the laundry.  i had stuck a note on top of the pile of laundry in its bag yesterday, which she just moved and put more clothes in the bag.

It was really humid but there was a bit of a breeze today.  Still, my hair in a pony tail wasn’t dry after many hours because it was that humid.   Sir Raven was glad for the cold living room too.  i made sure i poured her wine and ice water and she let me take her metro card to head out to the laundry mat a few miles away.

When i finally got the three loads done and made it home, two hours later, i was really upset that she had gotten cold and turned the air conditioner off.  She does this often, on/off, fan on only, all damn night.  And i hate it because i can’t regulate my own temperature correctly at all (thanks, Fibromyalgia).  She is in menopause, i get it, but damn.  After the three hours of housework, three hours of walking and hauling crap home, and two hours in a hot laundry mat-

it just set me over the edge.  i was angry because it was so inconsiderate.  She isn’t the only person who deserves to feel comfortable all of the time.  i’m sick and that is at least as important as menopause, some of the time.  Especially when all she is doing is sitting still writing and could have adjusted the temp on the a/c rather than shut it off and make the entire house a good ten degrees hotter than outside.

i tried to push it aside, the anger, the frustration, the exhaustion.

i put away laundry.  i tried to focus on other things-but-no.

i sat down and asked to talk, shared how angry i am that she tells me how i don’t matter all of the time, that i need SM to happen consistently and how her behaviors tell me that i don’t matter.  i understand, of course, that it takes physical and emotional energy to do SM.  But i also pointed out that it takes physical and emotional energy to receive SM too.  That she isn’t the only person tired.  i wake up tired, in pain, and am constantly going out of my way every single day for her.  What i’m asking for back needs to be met.

She tried to tell me that she had scheduled it.  Where?  When? Who knew that?  Certainly not me.

That simply isn’t good enough.

It’s not even that i want SM-because-actually, what i want is to not be wired this way.  i do need it and it’s doing me psychological and emotional damage to not have it.

She surprised me.

She asked if i wanted it now.  But-you know-i was pretty livid (if calm) and i did NOT want it.  i wanted to take something away from her, wanted her to feel how shitty it feels to be ignored, to feel unworthy and undesirable.  Instead, i went into the room, took my sundress off and let myself cry while she used pretty much every toy she has.  It hurt.  It hurt in that primitive way that defies explanation, but it cleaned my soul.  My little girl voice filled the room, angry and raging-i’m so mad at you, Daddy.

But i stayed-and she stayed-and she let me cry and kept going.  And going.  Until i was too spent to do anything but lay still and take it while making soothing noises to myself.

When she was done, she handed me my cold gatorade and left.  i gave her a hug, thanked her, had a cigarette.  i had forgotten what it felt like to feel safe in my own body, to not be trying to push my feelings down, to let her take care of me.

i put my sundress on, fixed my face because i had cried eye liner all over, and went to fix a yummy dinner.  We had bacon, lettuce, tomato, and avecado sandwiches in sundried tomato and basil artisan bread.  Desert was a peach pie and ice cream, but she was too full.

After i fed her, i thanked her again.  i told her i felt safe and loved.  i asked how she was.

She said Friday is our SM day now.  ❤

i am so thankful.  Beyond words.  Beyond any measure.  Just being in this body without nerves firing all crazy in painful ways is amazing.  Feeling safe is just priceless.


Hold it

This is my list for today:

Take out recycling and garbage.

Clean out frig.
Scrub stovetop and hutch.
Dust bedroom
Sort Laundry.
Sweep/mop house.
scrub bathtub, walls.
creamer, avacodo, smokes, wine
Check school emails
i was working along on my list, having sent it to Sir Raven.  i’m tired today and in a strange, uncharacteristic mood.  i cleaned and worked up my list from 9-2:30, when i heard the chimes on the door.  Startled, i went to take Sir Raven’s coat and get her a class of cranberry juice.  i was happy to see her.  i’m always happy when she is home, in part because i feel peaceful knowing she is safe in the house and in direct control.
i asked her if i could go take a late nap and she agreed to wake me in an hour so i could continue to charge my cell phone.  i had enjoyed talking to Karida, hugging over the phone, and mentally crossing off my list.  But now i was tired, had taken my meds late, and needed to nap.
i was frustrated in the dark, cold room.  i couldn’t sleep and thought that if i could cum, that might help.  i feel like i need to cry and at least having an orgasm is a kind of release.  Unfortunately, it eludes me.  There are times i can’t climax at all without penetration.  My body just won’t do it.  It was something trained in with a program that won’t rewrite completely.  It’s not really a bad thing because it reminds me that my body isn’t mine.
Sir Raven graciously beat the shit out of me yesterday, stopping before tears, but we were inching close to that territory.  She placed a short rod in between my knees and made me hold in i place while the ruthlessly raised welts all over me with her whip.  i dropped it only one time.  She encouraged me by way of moving my body how she wanted it, replacing the rod, and beating me some more.  My inner thighs and ass are her sweet spots, the places she loves to torture the most.  i could feel deep bruises forming, and had to breathe deeply as the beating continued.  It was a white-knuckle affair, though Sir Raven did offer me a bit of a warm-up, which i declined.  She would bark, “hold it” and my body would betray me and do as she said, while one part of me was desperate to move away, to crawl into the wall, to protect my face, my head.
My dispassionate observer remarked on my useless desire to escape, knowing it would never occur to me to even try to leave the bed.  i’m here because i need to be, not because i always want it.  i will prove this with my body, keeping each new pose, swallowing her dick with reckless abandon, whimpering each time she withdraws.  There is a sheer joy in my Master’s voice as she beats me harder and faster, two canes at once, and i still hold my position.  “Hold it,” she would demand.  Then, she would ramp up the pain, ripping at my nipple, grabbing my up by the collar and dragging me where she wanted me to be.  The whip found my tender clit many times, leading me to foolishly believe i might get fucked.  Sir Raven doesn’t brutalize me there unless she plans to take what is hers.  Today, she is not interested in that pleasure.  And there is not one damn thing i can do about that.  Emotionally, psychologically, this feels right.  Physically, my body begs for release and it’s not something i can do for myself right now.  i need what i can’t have.
i remember hearing a long, low, continuous moan and realizing it was me.
i had rode through the pain, in part to hear the pleasure in her voice and she tried to make me drop the rod now in between my knees, giving her easy access to every part of me.  “Yes!” she would call out when i held my pose through sheer will.
This is not about me.
Today, my jeans rub welts in many places.  Bruises that make me smile.  i feel pride, but only the smallest amount.  We need more of this so we can get to Bad Daddy.  Bad Daddy doesn’t give a fuck how loud i scream, beg, plead, cry.  Those are his drugs, his playthings.  She has to build up to that.  Yesterday felt so good, so right.  The last thing i’d ever want to do s to have her think i wasn’t grateful for any attention she gives me.
My body still begs to come and still can’t.  i’m frustrated and unable to sleep.  i try to talk to Sir Raven, who returns to watching Bones, disinterested.  She says i should do the laundry tomorrow and has already noted the rest of my list in complete.
i plod back to the bedroom, put clean sheets on the bed, light candles, and come here to exhale.
There are tears inside, something like anger, but without a name.
There is nothing i can do but be pleasant, accommodating, cheerful.
i hold it til i think i might burst.  i tell her i forget she wants me, loves fucking me, thinks i’m beautiful.
She sends me off to her bed, alone.


It was asked in one of the comments, “what do masters think about when they engage in SM.”

I want to say that I’m not thinking about anything, and I’m not. I’m doing more feeling then thinking. But last night while working the girl over, I realized that the only time I am in my mind is when I’m in between picking up another implement to hit her with. Overall my mind id turned off and I’m more in my body. Last night we where listing to a meditation station on Pandora, and I realized that after a song Deepak Chopra started talking, at first I only heard his voice in the back ground of my mind and continue doing what I was doing, then realized that he was describing what I was feeling. Meditating on abundance and how we can have abundance fill us up in our being. And that is how I feel when we do SM, I feed off of her reaction, it’s like the ocean’s ebb and flow. It’s slow at first and builds and if I’m not careful I might not realize that I’m getting too light headed.

Not light headed in a bad way but in a top space way. I know top space is rarely talked about, but it exist. Hence the ebb and flow. When I start to feel too light headed I have to slow down a bit and breath, and that’s the time I may pick something else. It would do no one any good if i passed out.

The best part is that I can trust her to let myself flow. I’m only able to get to that place because I’m not restricted to having to stop at every sound she makes that might sound to anyone else like she’s in distress. Which she is, but she works passed it. So although I’m not thinking anything, which I have to say is rare that I’m not thinking, it is a release for a time outside of my mind or being in my head. It also turns out that the little bit of time I take to stop and pick up something else is like a meditation until I’m full with abundance.

My thoughts on SM has been that since the girl and I have been together, that it’s more like worshiping at an altar if that make any sense? And yes, she would be the altar.



Don’t be funny…

She turned on a few minutes of Boston Legal (i think) this morning before she went to work. The attorneys were old friends, going back and forth, and then telling the judge when they would meet again. Not to be outdone, the judge pointed out he made the rules around here, and then-after a moment of pause-ordered them to come back at the same time they had already decided.

i laughed, and said, in my best mock goodliest Master voice, “I will accept it.” Then, in case she wasn’t absolutely sure, i pointed out this is exactly what she sounds like.

“Don’t be funny!” Sir Raven said, but she is laughing.

She will ask what is for dinner and i’ll tell her what i’ve already cooked.

Que Pregnant Pause, the kind generally reserved for serious mathematical equation solving.
Finally, she nods.
“I’ll accept it.”

Despite myself, i feel a bit edgy until the pronouncement is made. Occasionally, she will desire something else after i’ve already cooked, which is just fine. i mean, of course its fine. Doh. What i mean is, i don’t cook for myself. i cook for her pleasure so if she changed her mind, i am happy to oblige.

Not too many things make me happier than when she compliments the meal (very often) or the house (often enough). i’d take care of things the same way if she never said anything about it. One of the things i really like about power exchange relationships is the way that i have no expectations of kindness or generosity or praise. So, i receive them with a happy heart.

She does nice things for me very often. This week, it was a tiny box of truffles. My eyes rolled back in my head it was sooo good. She also sent me a really funny quip of the Darcy’s, which was great, and a note, which was better. Then there is the fact that i’ve had a really bad fibro week, coupled with a cold and fever that won’t go away. I’m not super sick but its not been the best possible thing. The moment she walks in the door, i feel better.

Well, actually an hour before she is home, i start to feel better. i think of this as the Magic Hour. i work on dinner, meditate, light candles, put on more blush and lipstick, light nag champa, and try to find a good place to stop working. i cultivate calm, open energy. i am always happy to hear the door, to take her coat and bag. She has taken to lightly kissing my forehead lately, not wanting to risk getting sick again herself. Sometimes, i sneak an extra hug or two before i get her wine. The house is warm and fragrant and peaceful.

Sir Raven has taken to writing again, which i love. i think she is a better writer than i am. Frankly, i think she is better at pretty much everything than me. The only thing i have ever specifically asked her to write about is what is going on inside of her when she beats me. The only thing she has ever asked me to not write about is a science fiction reference that i didn’t get and a movie i had never seen. So, anyhow, the talk part of her demo should be interesting. i had no idea i would be asked to talk other than whatever ends up coming out of my mouth while she is beating me.

Yeah. i’m committed to the idea. i realized that my lack of enthusiasm on letting myself speak/beg/whatever is that i lack all control of what comes out and i wanted to protect her from being seen as a Big Meanie. One of the best things about what we do in “play” though is that neither of us give a fuck about my level of enjoyment in the moment. The more i let go, the more she lets go, the more i let go, the more it works. To be honest, we have had at least a few experiences that i’m not sure i would have wanted to watch other people do. We aren’t holding them there at gunpoint (i think) and they are adults and can choose to watch or not watch.

The other thing i had to work through in order to speak to her while she beats me is fears of what i might say. i had been told once, with a previous person, that i had told her i hated her. One day, Sir Raven and i were talking as we walked to the train. When she calmly pointed out that i had, actually, said the same thing to her once, i was so upset and surprised that i stopped walking and stood dumbfounded in the middle of the road. She laughed easily, grabbed me by my arm and dragged me to safety. Calmly, Sir Raven asked if i would think that anything i could say in that state would really bother her. i had to think about it for a long moment. Sometimes, its my inner child doing the talking and i really *really* don’t trust anything little me might have to say.

Sir Raven very often doesn’t tell me about anything i say while she beats me. i can only think of two or three times we have talked about it. One time, she assured me that it was a turn-on of sorts after we both had a couple of drinks.

Really, the only thing that matters to me is that she is happy. We can’t convey what we are about if i’m closed off at all. i want to give her a good time and a good experience. If people think we are too much or whatever…who cares? They don’t live here. We do. We are happy with each other and we see growth in each other all of the time.

Tomorrow is a milestone for her and i’m so excited its her birthday. i thank God every single day for this woman. She is so absolutely beautiful, smart, funny, strong, and talented. There are not enough words to ever explain what she means to me.

i am Blessed.

Hit her with my best shot

I was asked to present at TES next month, on canes and rods, which should be interesting and fun, I love talking about canes. Working out the first draft in my head, I decide to include the girl in the presentation to do some explaining about canes. Which I’m always interested in what the one being caned is feeling and or their mindset. I also want her to explain the working of our relationship from her end. This sounds like a good idea since in the past when a presenter does a demo I always want to hear more from the bottom. This will be like our official coming out for us and will be the first time we have done something like this.
The party I was asked to host back in August    was a blast . But working her over in public doesn’t count. She’s already convinced that we are going to make people throw up, which would be sweet, but we’re talking canes not blood. 🙂

I’ve given her the opportunity during the demo to be verbal, that’s always fun for me and I wonder if she’ll be up to it. She never knows what she says and I love it, it feeds me on some level. Of course she might just be stoic which is cool as well. I have enough imagination to have fun.

Speaking of canes, the other night while working her over the handle broke, She was a gleeful about it, I on the other hand thought I was going to cry. I love that cane, but not to be undone I have others and now I have to break them in before the 26th. Let the breaking in begin.
Speaking of head space, most times head space is focused on the bottom and all that fuzzy stuff, I have taken to talking about top head-space in my demos since it’s never talked about. I’m not saying the bottoms head-space isn’t something to discuss, but I’m not on the bottom and I feel that tops, and what we get out of their sadism is left out. So I’m talking about it every chance I get and hope it inspires more tops to do the say. also M/s is not something that is talked about in many of the circles here in NY so I’m going to pimp my dynamic. Being called a psycho  be damned. Yes I’ve been called names in the past when I’ve bought up my views on M/s in some places other than MAsT. I’m an Aquarian so I’m use to being the odd one in a group and I’m good with that. and now I have someone who accepts this about me warts and all.

I’m blessed.