Could i hate Him if i tried????? i've tried and hatred just doesn't live here...but blame does. Blame takes me to regret and regret will hopefully lead me to forgiveness. All emotions pointing at me as their source. i allowed myself to believe the hype. i allowed trust to cloud my better judgement. Will i ever give myself to Another? i know that i will because the need and the desire still keeps me awake at nght.The need to feel and be propped by the muppet strings awaits me. Chiseling at another wall that my lil built all by herself, determined to not feel the hurt again..knowing all well that she will trust again....she will break this wall and the hurt will come. she'll get her tools, build another wall..and the cycle continues til at last...He comes...gathers her in His embrace and carries her to a safe place...foreign to her from all the safe places that she's ever gone. Awaiting her fate to be used, abused and torn, she finds that with Him, no such place exists. A real challenge to serve in the arc of safety.

There is something about that first tear of a session. Its almost like building tension when its gathering in the corners of your eyes. The struggle to keep more tears from gathering is a losing battle. When that first tear rolls down your cheek or across your face, it makes way for the others to come... A boulder that builds and causes that "follow me" affect. I almost hate it But love it to no end. That allows for emotion to free itself. If i could just express to Daddy all that i'm feeling right now.

tonight, my slavery has almost overwhelmed me. i crave to be at the mercy of His whip. i crave to be at the mercy of His strong hands that holds the leash. i crave to be at the mercy of all of His wicked thoughts. tonight i crave to feel His open palm against my soft, tender flesh. i wish....i should've....maybe i need to.....No!

i lay here and allow my thoughts to take me back when.....i was bound by the chains...bound by the spreader bar...bound by His gaze upon me....i was hypnotized by the need to feel that whip strike against my inner thigh....sometimes it would strike my most private sensitive area and my body would buck against the strip of material...the sting would intensify the need to feel it again against my clit...just enough to make the whimpers come..the begging and then the tears....i hate the tears..i hate the moment that enough tears gather and the first one rolls down my cheek. There, that place, the battle is lost and i begin to fall into oblivion...that space place.