Slave

Being your slave, what should I do but tend

Upon the hours and times of your desire? ~ William Shakespeare

Is this me?

Broken

The heart that breaks open can contain the whole universe. - Joanna Macy, writer and teacher (1929- )
Maybe in that quote, in those few words, I may have gotten it.

Horror-scope

Pisces for Sept 22:
There are a few old ideas, abandoned dreams, and outdated philosophies that need to get cleaned out of your mental closet. Many of these things feel necessary from an emotional point of view, but from a realistic point of view (which is much more important to consider today), they could be holding you back. It's time for you to get some fresh ideas, come up with some new dreams, and explore revolutionary philosophies. Spend this day feeding your mind.
Is this true? Have I held on to dreams, ideas and philosphies that are outdated or holding me back?

Sometimes, a dream is all I have to hold on to. Abandoning a dream is like ... giving up hope?

Or maybe it doesn't need to be abandoned at all. Maybe it just needs to be overhauled. A dream extreme makeover.

Masochism

[Rex has just told Bree about his masochism]

Rex: For God's sake, you promised to be supportive.

Bree: What do you want me to say? My husband likes to wear metal clamps around his nipples. Hooray?

Yeah, its not something you just bring up at the PTA meeting is it? If someone would have told me about 7 years ago that the feel of a clothespin on a nipple, or the slap of a metal belt, or even a needle puncturing skin would send me into an orgasmic spin, I would have looked at them like they grew two heads.

But it does.

And its not just the physical. Oh no. Abuse me in anyway, and I get wet. I mean, absolutely, I'm going to cum at any minute wet. Maybe abuse is a strong word. Abuse implies I don't have a choice. But I do. I choose to be subject to pain.

Pain becomes the catharsis to let a world of anguish go. To release all of the pent up worry, stress, terrible feelings, etc. out. OUT.

I am a Masochist.

Wait.

Hi, I'm X, and I'm a Masochist.

Hi X! Take a seat over there on those thumbtacks.

Don't Let me Get Me

Everyday I fight a war against the mirror
I can't take the person starin' back at me
I'm a hazard to myself

Don't let me get me
I'm my own worst enemy

Pink - Don't Let Me Get Me

And it is oh so terribly true.

I look in the mirror
and what do I see
nothing but average
staring back at me
Nothing remarkable
Nothing Unique
Nothing worth even a peck on the cheek

Such a silly little rhyme. From a silly little brain.

Don't let me get me. Indeed.

Dependable

When T died, besides the overwhelming sadness of having lost someone I love dearly, I felt this very real sense that in his short life, while I was always there, I never did anything ... special. Everyone had all these "special" moments. I felt like I wasn't really all that instrumental in his life. I was just ... there. Somedays I still feel like that.

Most of us go through life wanting to make some impact on a life. I'm really afraid all that will be said of me is that I was always there. And maybe that is special, but sometimes all that feels like is ... dependable. I don't want to be remembered as dependable.

On Hiatus

I heard recently, I think on TV, that making mistakes is easy ... its the NOT making them that's hard.

With that, I'm going on Hiatus for a few days. Today was tough, filled with happy memories, and sad thoughts that they will forever be in the past.

Its time to look forward.

With that, I'll be back. With bells on. You decide where the bells are.

Sorrow

When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight. ~Kahlil Gibran
We weep for the things we have loved. True sorrow is based on the fact that we have lost something that was integral to our lives, our happiness. Sorrow is selfish. Even in the face of losing someone who suffered greatly, our sorrow centers on the fact that the "I" no longer can have that person in their lives.

I've lost four people in my life now who suffered greatly. All integral to my life and happiness. Three were old. They had lived full, rich lives. Each expressed readiness, if not eagerness to get the hell off planet Earth. They were tired. For one of them, I was given the gift of being with her when she passed. The pain I felt was not for her, but for me. For her, I felt relief. I felt her joy.

One was young. So very young. And had suffered as well. In many ways, he had lived an even fuller, richer life. He taught me so many things about love, compassion and courage. Not with words, but with his outstretched arms ... his big cheesey grin. He loved unconditionally. With no expectations other than you love him back. Oh, and maybe some gummi's.

We can wrap ourselves in a blanket of sorrow, and pine for that we've lost. And that's ok. To allow yourself to feel the pain of a life or love lost is to be human. But it is when we remember why we feel the pain in the first place, that we begin to understand our live's truest loves ... our truest joy.

Fear and Uncertainty

Sometimes, I feel the fear of uncertainty stinging clear
And I can't help but ask myself
how much I'll let the fear take the wheel and steer.
It's driven me before, and it seems to have a vague, haunting mass appeal.
But lately I'm beginning to find that I should be the one behind the wheel.

Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there with open arms and open eyes,
Yeah Whatever tomorrow brings, I'll be there..I'll be there

Drive - Incubus

My Grandmother at age 21, with a 5 year old son, left her hometown, divorced a louse of a husband and got a job making bomb sites. All circa 1945.

She always said she was too stupid to be scared.

As for me, I think I'll take that brand of stupidity any day.

Part deux, tomorrow .........

Selfish Clod

“The true joy of life [is] being used for a purpose recognized by yourself as a mighty one ... being thoroughly worn out before you are thrown to the scrap heap ... being a force of nature instead of a feverish, selfish clod of ailments and grievances.” George Bernard Shaw

It is a wonder to me at times, when we can fight so hard against something, to realize we've become the thing we are fighting against.

To be beaten down by the demands of others is a refrain I hear myself repeat often. I bitch about being used, being a doormat, ... blah blah blah. I often find myself praying for solitude, wishing that everyone would go away for a moment so I could breathe ... think.

Today I got a good hard look at myself, and realized I'd become those I wish would go away. I've become "a feverish, selfish clod of ailments and grievances."

For someone who prides themselves on being compassionate, kind and standing up for those in need, I've sure been acting like a selfish, spoiled brat.

If my joy in life is truly outwardly focused, that I truly find happiness in being a compassionate and giving person - then turning my attention inward isn't going to make me happy.

And bitching about the people who I feel use me, is a bit ridiculous.

So what is the issue? Finding the balance.

Somewhere there is a middle ground. Somewhere where I don't lose myself - I can remain the compassionate person I believe myself to be - and still be able to take care of myself.

I don't want to be someone who rails at the world for being unfair, and then takes no stand to make my existence any better.

And I cannot expect someone to do it for me. If I do, then I've turned myself in to the same people I complain about.

Letters to Master - Day 6

Life is truly known only to those who suffer, lose, endure adversity and stumble from defeat to defeat. Anais Nin

I, with a deeper instinct, choose a man who compels my strength, who makes enormous demands on me, who does not doubt my courage or my toughness, who does not believe me naive or innocent, who has the courage to treat me like a woman. Anais Nin

Dear Master,

Today I did something I didn't think I could do. I stumbled, fell, pulled myself up and instead of falling all over myself to make it right ... to write endless emails, and mad emotional outbursts ..

I wrote a story instead.

It wasn't purely altruistic. I wanted to prove to myself what I am capable of.

Because you have never doubted my courage or strength even when you've rendered me on my knees, sobbing.

What use would I be if I was weak? I want you proud to own not just a whore, or a pet ... but the strong woman I am.

I ache for you. I want to make your cock hard with my howls and sobs ... and utter willingness to debase myself completely .... but maybe I finally understand that I can come away stronger.

I'm finally understanding the person you own so completely .. and she isn't so bad really.

I'm still jealous. I'm still going to fall. I still utterly crave being at your mercy. And I still dream of the day I turn around and you are there...and we have our moment ... the one we will never forget.

Dreaming of you ...

Love,

yours

Letters to Master - Day 5

Dear Master,

I laid my submissive heart bare for you. I harnessed the pain and torment the best I could, and tried to make it wonderful for us both. And then ... in that moment, when release from it all was emminent, I failed. I failed immensely and completely.

I feel more lost, more pathetic, and more desperate than I ever have in my entire life. Begging to know ... so sure you would let me in because I'd been a good girl. And then the knowledge that she was on her knees before you, by her own choice, after I myself had failed ....

it just ...

leaves me feeling broken ...

but God help me, I ache for you still.

Love,

Your pet

Letters to Master - Day 4

Dear Master -

No quote I could find could ever sum up my feelings today. I've tottered from the brink so many times today that I can't even count them. I feel as if I have ridden the roller coaster continuously since you said I would suffer this weekend. And when I heard you this morning, and you made me squeeze my nipple ... it took every force of will to not cum immediately. The message you left made me feel...incredible.

I put on a brave face for family while my pussy dripped down my thighs. Soaking panties, feeling the ball push against the walls of my cunt. I am beyond need, beyond ache, and approaching the desparateness that you so love to hear in my voice. I was a good mom, a good wife, and a good daughter in law. All the while humiliated by feeling like a crazed cock hungry whore.

I'm tormented about what I may find out. I am tormented by what is to come. And maybe, I'm afraid of this all ending. The torment indeed has become a centering force. If it ends, I may just be afraid of where I'll be.

In the meantime, I'm desparate for you. Completely.

With my love,

your whore.

Letters to Master - Day 3

Renee Pelagie: Can I impart to you his cruellest trick.

Dr. Royer-Collard: Of course.

Renee Pelagie: Once, long ago in the folly of youth, he made me love him

Quills - 2000

Dear Master,

Day 3. I woke trembling with need after dreaming of you. Dreaming of you and her together. Even in my sleep I am haunted by thoughts of you. I crave you in ways I never had, nor ever expected.

I love you. It occured to me that this makes the suffering what it is. I ache for you in the ways that I do, because I love you. I love you in a way I've not loved anyone else. I have shared with you things I've never shared with anyone, and never expect to share with anyone else. You know me like no one else has. You have heard me at my lowest point, and used it for your pleasure.

You truly own me. This is a fact I have acknowledged for a long time, but I believe my understanding of this rather simple fact is changing.

If you didn't, if this was a game - the craving would not be the same, I think. The ache that my heart and cunt is experiences would not be as intense ... would not be as affecting, as it is.

Today was a long day. It started with trembling, and progressed to full blown "My God I Can't Take Anymore" very rapidly. I caught myself starting to cry ... and I forced it down. I choked back every tear that wanted to be shed, and made the torment my anchor. I let the pain and ache course through my body and heart, and used it to send you perverse messages that I hoped would please you. I used it to shed my lack of self esteem and buy myself something pretty that I felt good in, felt sexy in ... and I spent time with my little girl.

The torment didn't go away. I had to fight for the composure to be with my family. My imagination is still actively imagining your weekend with her. What is happening with her, what you are doing with her. I see soft kisses, and touches. I feel your heart beating faster. I feel your breath against her skin as if it is my own. The what ifs have not ceased. My curiousity has only increased with your refusal to let me know what is happening, which is of course, your right. They continue to push their way into my existence and make my heart beat faster ... my pussy twitch, and my nipples harden. I feel like a complete whore. Humiliation is my constant companion.

Underneath it all .... underneath the humiliation and aching, is the fear of what is to come. The unknown both scares me ... and excites me.

with a love beyond reason,

your whore

Letters to Master - Day 2

"At times it is strangely seductive to know the extent of your own powerlessness." Erica Jong

Master,

The extent of my utter powerlessness with you is evident. If I knew before what it meant to suffer, I've been sadly mistaken. My heart is breaking, and I fear never being whole again. At the same time, my body aches for you stronger than it ever has. Part of me wants to run from you, screaming, tell you to go to hell ... and the other part wants to beg you to save me from my own hell. The hell of knowing that you are with her, and she is beautiful and lovely and young. Things I will never be.

You have said not to compare. I try. I fail. I fear never being the person you fear losing. I fear that I will no longer be the favorite toy. I will cease to be your pet. I will forever be the stupid whore, begging for your attention ... begging for your cock. Begging to suffer, fearing not to, and aching for it always. Wanting and dreaming for things that I don't have.

All day, I waited. After your initial communication, which rocked me to my core, and made me feel as useless as I've ever been, I waited. I clutched my phone for any word that you were thinking of me. There was nothing. My house is cleaner than it has ever been.

And then you told me you decided to not, that you wanted me to suffer.

I wanted to scream. To yell "the fuck do you think I have been doing for week's on end when I know that she is the only thing on your brain". Then comes the guilt I feel because it seems so god damned selfish.

I almost went too far. Until you said you were getting annoyed, and I realized that this is who I am. This is what I signed up for. I am yours, and I will take what you have to give me. All the pain, and all the torment. I will do it for your pleasure and I will thank you for it. I am crazed for you. My body is on fire. My nipples are hard, and my clit. I'm aching for you in a way that I never have.

And its only Day 2 of the weekend, and its going to get worse. You've promised to make me suffer, and so I shall. All I can do is wait and endure, and try to be the best pet/whore/submissive I can be, and give in to what you want.

Even as I write this, my daughter sitting on the floor next to me, I'm trying so desparately not to cry. I am humiliated in a way that even several days ago I could never have fathomed.

I feel useless. I feel powerless. I feel inferior. It fucking hurts.

And I love you.

your whore