Beyond the searing loss,

the daily tears and constant ache,

a window has been thrown open.

Sunlight streams into the gloom

showering the future with such radiance

that the shape becomes red.

Anchor cut,

reasons dissolved,

and nothing left to do but

accept.  Nothing remains.

Soon the tears shall need to be dried.

Hanging from hooks
in time and space,
amorphous shadows
all around.  More ephemeral
then the constancy and devotion shown.

Nothing is binding me here,
the painful emptiness
echoes resoundingly,
whispering of what was.
Freedom beckons and
is both bitter and over rated.

Lately, I've been reminded of the hole that is at my very core.  A hungry void which craves to be filled with purpose, meaning, direction, structure.  It's a very primal, basic thing.  It's tied to sex but not wholly sexual.  It's about power but there must be my surrender too.  I wish to exchange my freedom for Your control.  Without that...... I lack purpose, meaning, direction, structure.  Without that......I lack something vital.    It makes me feel unimportant and useless to not have You to guide me and fill up this hole inside me.  You give me value.

The hole inside is so desperately needy that it scares me sometimes.  It's unnerving to see that i don't have an internal sense of purpose on my own.  That I can't be complete on my own.  I need You.  On one hand, You're complete on Your own with Your own purpose, goals and drive to achieve them.  And that makes me feel very attached to You.  It makes me feel very secure.  And very vulnerable.  What if ... (insert pessimistic thoughts).  And what if this ... and what if that ..... and what if You change Your mind and decide I'm just too much trouble?

I don't personally know anyone else as needy as I am.  But I think it's why I'll feel comfortable around You... when I'm not terrified.  I have a hole in need of filling and I seek that out and am trying to open myself.  You have an abundance of purpose and direction.  And You seek out a hole to fill with Your excess.  You need to control me.  And I need to be controlled.  I offer my freedom to You and You offer Your guidance to me.

I cringe at the thought of being offered choices and the freedom to make them.  I need to be constrained by You in word, observation and occasionally physical restraint.  I need Your boot on my throat.  I want to give up my choices.  I need You to create an environment where there is a loss of freedom to make choices.  Where I will please You.  Not because I choose to... but because you will make sure I do.  There is no alternative.

I need You to fill up my hole so I can be real.  So I can be useful to You.  I don't exist for myself... I exist to please You.  I exist to be the other piece of the puzzle which fits by Your side.. and half a step behind, Master.

Today he nudged my fingers

with the toe of His boot.

Lifting each one up and

off the precarious ledge.

Calmly I watched and felt

a frisson of fear.. and

a puff of desperate desire.

Today I slipped down

......so very far down.

Into the pit from which

there is no escape,

no reprieve, not

any expectation of mercy.

Nor is any desired.

Today I looked into His eyes

and they were still focused,

amused, watchful,

kind... and yet unyielding.

And calculating.

Judging my descent

and planning my fall.

I've about given up

clinging so desperately.

Or perhaps I just realize

that I am unable to

prevent my decline

which seems as inexorable

as His beloved ocean's tide.

I find myself impatient

awaiting the next kick

proceeding at His pace

though comforts and calms

My only thought being

"kick me harder please Master".

Please... hurt me.

I dreamed that I was being kicked

down a cliff

or a rabbit hole

down into the dark pit of slavery.

And I was afraid.

Down the hole I fell

landing temporarily

on an outlying shelf

only to have Him

step to the edge

and onto my fingers.

Each drop

knocking my breath away

leaving me dazed

hurt

trembling.

Trying to gather myself

only to feel Him

kick me again

and again

and again.

And yet again.

Wistfully, I think

of girls who

humbly and gently

offer their submission

like a delicate flower.

Those who guard it

fiercely

forcing the earning

of their "gift".

None of that applies to me.

Mine is forced into compliance

by yelps of pain

and welts

and tear stained eyes

and struggle.

Rip it from me,

make me suffer

for resisting

and never allow me to forget

that it's to You i belong.

Demand devotion,

insist on obedience,

require neediness.

Claim Your slave

and it shall be so.

I know no other way.

Tonight dark thoughts fill me

Of past sins....  some of them mine.

What strange alchemy

Finds happiness under another's rule?

Encounters freedom in chains?

Chances upon love through suffering?

Does one love first

And then willingly find oneself a slave?

But what of those who enter slavery first?

Will love be denied and all is pain?

Or do they grow entertwined?

The scale can tip precariously,

And whatever happiness accrued

Spills out and is lost.. a distant memory.

Nothing left but heartache .

Or, perhaps, they just accent

One the other, the suffering

Throwing the joy in sharp relief.

But not this evening

Where all around me

My sins stand in silent accusation.

I wonder if the debt shall ever be paid

Or am I doomed to eternal Purgatory.

Soon I'll bear His marks upon my flesh

And then be back here... alone.

Shall I know then?

Or shall this haunting continue?

Is this a puzzle to solve?

Or just another trial to endure.

Only god knows

And He's silent.  As always.

People think of God

As just, and kind,

With "reasons"

For the pain He causes.

But I know better.

There is no reason

Other then because

He can.  And He shall.

People urge faith,

The only faith I

Believe is one of suffering.

There is no truer way to show devotion.

Love.  Control.  Obedience.

Pain.  Suffering.  Caresses.

All entangled, never sorted.

One sliding into the next.

Helpless before His Authority,

His Arrogance, and His Kindness.

The Father Grants.  And Inflicts.

Slavery is like the ocean; no one really knows how far down it goes.

Fabulous event last weekend... really, really needed what I took away from it spiritually.  MAsT tonight!

Torture in Texas this weekend!  Woohoo!  Cruxificion on Sunday is closing it out... should be interesting.

Excellent blog this week by Jack Rinella on the reality of M/s relationships.  It's a pity more people aren't interested in reality as opposed to fantasy.  http://www.leatherviews.com/

On sabbatical.  Please contact me on that *other* style site.

Apparently.. a break isn't meant to be... judging from the volume of email I'm receiving.  With that said, let me narrow things down for some of y'all.  This is snipped to protect the sender to might provide some insight for whomever takes the time to read my journal.

On hiatus.  Taking a break.  Whatever terminology fits.  Write if You're serious, otherwise, pass me by. 

A slave submits primarily to her own nature… That she requires a material, extrovert focus for her submission, i.e. the dominant, does not alter the fact that on the spiritual level her submission is essentially introverted. One could say that through the dominant she submits to herself by proxy… Each makes the other possible, tied together as they are in symbiotic interdependence. -- J. Mikael Togneri

slavery is not about suffering . . .
. . . slavery is about service.

slavery is not about humiliation . . .
. . . slavery is about humility.

slavery is not about pain . . .
. . . slavery is about being present.

slavery is not about being used . . .
. . . slavery is about being of use.

slavery is not about control . . .
. . . slavery is about letting go.

slavery is not about what is done to you . . .
. . . slavery is about what you do for others.

slavery is not about abuse . . .
. . . slavery is about acceptance.

slavery is not about proving anything . . .
. . . slavery is about being real.

slavery is not about contempt . . .
. . . slavery is about respect.

slavery is not about how you look . . .
. . . slavery is about how much you care.

slavery is not about denying yourself . . .
. . . slavery is about being open.

slavery is not about bondage . . .
. . . slavery is about freeing your spirit.

slavery is not about punishment . . .
. . . slavery is about discipline.

slavery is not about being unable to escape . . .
. . . slavery is about being committed.

slavery is not about submission . . .
. . . slavery is about obedience.

slavery is not about fear . . .
. . . slavery is about trust.

slavery is not about sex . . .
. . . slavery is about love.

slavery is not about pleasure . . .
. . . slavery is about happiness.

David Stein

if there is anyone locally who is capable of manufacturing a small intimate item for me in stainless steel, please contact me...........

also interested in trying cheek spears, if anyone is adept at them, and still looking for someone locally into knifeplay, please message me............

thanks!

Met an awesome sadist who took me to Beat Me In St. Louis.  Had a wonderful time, was black and blue, now green and yellow.  Pity He lives out of state, He'd make a wonderful playmate.  Please note the implied respect the use of caps (which is absolutely stupid, incidentally) and my refraining from the usage of the word "f*ck" and other profanities per Someone's request.

Apparently, the break is over with.  

Taking an indefinite break

Without trust there can be no obedience,
Without honesty there can be no security,
Without respect there can be no commitment,
Without caring there can be no compassion.