Friday, July 31, 2009

Finally Better

I spent yesterday with Sir. First at the fair with him and G. Two of the sweetest faces riding the bumper cars I'd ever seen. He needs time with G just having fun. I think I can help him with that. He can let himself loose for a little when I'm there and they both are the better for it. He's got another person around who can help him take up some of the slack with G when he gets rambunctous, but knows when to step back when it's his place to be the dad. I think that works pretty well. I can be the sometime buffer between them. Giving them both someone else to focus on when things get difficult. I've always been good at that little trick.

After G left, we spent some time together relaxing. Talking, rope cuffs, making Corpse Reviver #2 (I don't know what happened to #1),nipple clamps...I really forgot that one. When I told him to think of something that he wanted but which he knew I hated, I forgot about those. Me and my great ideas.

He'd saved some come in the freezer for me. I laughed when I couldn't reach my tongue into the bottom of the container to lick it and he had to feed it to me with a spoon...but he laughed as well. He told me not to have anyone else put my rope cuffs on me. I was to wait for him to do it from now on. He just wants me to want him more than anyone else. That's an easy one.

He did give me a bite on my shoulder because I asked for one. He made a comment about my "topping from the bottom", but sometimes, I need to feel him and one of the best ways is for that bruise on my shoulder. I can feel him for days. I did all that he asked of me. I didn't force things back down, I was finally...after all this time....just me. Sometimes a little mouthy, sometimes a little silly...but he knows now that if he wants my attention a different way...all he has to do is re-direct me. I don't consider that topping from the bottom though. And I don't think he really does either. He'll get used to my asking for things....and he'll understand eventually that I don't always expect to get them.

He was a little stressed from the weekend with G though and that came out in interesting ways. I pulled a muscle in my neck sometime during the night and he had to change positions for a comfortable blow job.

We played with the new Njoy toy...both ends this time and he was wonderful.

And speaking of that, it is funny that I'd never thought about watching myself come or with pain. I've seen myself on film being hurt...but it wasn't hurt that I wanted, and it was a lot more brutal than I'd ever want to be involved with again. I'm a little leery of video taping...given what I've gone through before....but I am curious. He got it right when he said that while I'm like that...it feels selfish because I feel like I'm the center of the universe. But he says its because he's got the center of the universe in his hands and can make it do anything he wants that its not selfish at all. They're his orgasms....they belong to him just as surely as I do now.

Leaving him this morning was difficult again, but for totally different reasons. I'm back to the owned space that just wants to curl at his feet, taking in his strength, and being surrounded by his love. I'm only half a person without him. To be sure, I like that half...but its the one that I am with him that I like best of all. He brings out the best in me....and I just want that more. With him, I'm sure of my place, my role, and myself. Without him, I'm just confused.

Odd how it's easier to find your way through another and so hard to find your way through yourself.

Thursday, July 30, 2009

I Am a Princess (and Happy to Be That Way)


Last evening, a really good friend of mine snickered and got "that look" when he heard me called princess. At first I was offended. But then I thought that maybe this is something that is just misunderstood.

Princess is too often used in a pejorative way by too many people that don’t understand the nature of a Daddy/lilgirl relationship. Of course I’m not a real princess; my parents weren’t royalty, I seldom wear a tiara, and I actually do dress myself. I am not spoiled. I am not whiny. I am not Cinderella and I’m never entitled to obeisance nor homage...although a curtsy or bow from a cute shoe-boy is sometimes looked upon with favor. I work. I drive my own car, have friends and responsibilities that I don't give up because I'm his princess. I don't have a closet full of gucci or prada, and I certainly do sweep the floors, make beds and wash dishes without regard to my fingernails or coiffure.

When one thinks of princesses, they automatically assume that all of the negative traits of princess-ship are those that are predominant. They never stop to think that one of the first roles of a princess is loyalty and duty. A sense of pride in who she is, rising above herself to give even when she doesn’t wish to, and always conducting herself with grace, beauty, and compassion. Why do so many people only think of a princess as a “do-me” or a whiny, manipulative brat? I’m sure if you asked Daddy, he’d tell you that although sometimes I am just a teeny little bit bratty, he’d never consider me a “do-me”, whiny, or manipulative. If anything, he’d just shake his head, smile, and tell me not to worry my pretty little head over it.

In our relationship, a small part of which does include the D/lg....princess is a word used to make me feel loved, cherished, and free to act like a little girl. Able to let out fears that I’ve kept inside for a long time, to someone that not only wants to help me finally get rid of them...but needs to help me become all that I can....because he sees that in me which so many others have overlooked. Able to play, smile, explore, and love in the way that children have before the world gets in the way...with unselfishness and with their whole being. It doesn’t involve age-play, incest, or acting like a spoiled brat. It involves all of those things that make a relationship whole.

He uses other terms for me as well: Mine, bitch, slut, and darling...just as I use other terms for him: Sir, you sadistic bastard, sweetheart, and my love. We even go so far as to use our own names! So then, if we have all of these other “labels”, which no one finds out of place in (or out of) “the scene”, why is the term “princess” said with such scorn? It seems pretty ridiculous to me that calling someone a cunt (when they may HAVE one, but aren’t only one) or a cocksucking slut is perfectly fine...but calling someone by princess means laughter and thinking that either he is a weak man ruled by a manipulative selfish woman; or that I can’t live without someone giving me carte blanche. I am princess to him...not to anyone else. To everyone else, I’d likely kick your ass for calling me that...with that look of scorn....knowing it was an insult. When he calls me princess, it makes me melt because we understand what that word means to us, in our relationship.

So before you snicker the next time you hear me call him daddy, or him call me princess, realize that the truth behind the words lies not in how your own prejudices make them appear, but in how we love each other. If you've ever had a small child curl up in your lap, look adoringly at you, and think you were the man that hung the moon...then you might just understand a tiny part of what being his princess means to the both of us.

Friday, July 17, 2009

Owned

Today I’m having a great day. After everything that I’ve put myself and Sir through testing the waters to see if he could accept myself, to see if I could become more than just his sometime submissive girlfriend, and after having had a couple of weeks of almost a nervous breakdown of sorts...I’ve finally figured out that my main problem was me.

Looking back at the last seven months since meeting Sir, I’d allowed myself to believe that I could do this half way. I could be his submissive sometimes, while sometimes doing whatever I damned well pleased. And to a certain extent, I can still do that. He really doesn’t want to change who I am...I think he just wanted me to change how I saw myself with him. It was kind of surprising that he’s had such little actual experience in a D/s relationship, yet obviously he was able to figure out that I really didn’t know my own mind about it with him.

I’m sure we’ll laugh together at this someday. My pushing and testing. And he is right. I suppose I will do it again someday. Pushing and testing myself though...not really him.

My attitude has changed significantly since last weekend at the Flea. After yet another meltdown, being completely miserably unhappy with Sir at yet another party...being more lonely with him than if I’d been by myself...and feeling awful for feeling like that...I had another one of my famous meltdowns. I hurt him. He told me that when he questioned himself about letting me get close to G. That fucking woke me up. I know that G is the most important person in his life.....and to question if the other should be around him given the uncertainty in my own head....that scared the hell out of me.

I took a day off from work. I didn’t feel well anyway so it wasn’t such a huge deal. Yes, we’d overcome a lot of my meltdown by Sunday, but in the light of day...I didn’t really like myself much better for having done it. I felt tired, wasted, empty and sad.

I spent the day thinking...sleeping....relaxing. I let my mind wander over what I liked about Sir, about us together, and about myself. The things I liked about our relationship are normal things...we like to talk with each other. We like to learn and experience new things together. We care about each other’s happiness. We want to console, protect, make smile, and love each other. We didn’t have to fall in love. We probably could have had a really good part-time bottom/top relationship. But what I figured out was that I couldn’t do that anymore. I can’t just be a bottom any longer. I can’t just take without giving all of myself, my effort....back. I need to give him everything...I need to be owned again.

I’d realized that he owned me, but only those pieces I was willing to give him. He owned me with boundaries. And having those boundaries...while they might make it easier not to be hurt again....also made it too difficult on me to keep in place. I needed him to want to own me. I needed him to take that which I wasn’t sure I wanted to give....He was sure. And that’s why he kept having me question myself. He kept throwing things out there for me to explore myself with. And the only conclusion was that I couldn’t be with him, and be happy with him...any other way.

My attitude changed in that instant. I saw all of the things that I’d selfishly thought and done....and realized how much they were hurting both of us. He wanted me...but did I want him enough? Did I want him enough to give over the submissive in me? Did I really trust him with that? Could I love him and be his submissive? Could I love him and have everything else? I’m positive I can. He is everything I’ve ever wanted in someone.....I was just too selfish to see it.

So today I am owned...and today I finally feel owned. I do as he asks because I love him and it will make him happy. His happiness...that delicious smile on his face when he’s happy....is my goal every time that I’m with him. He asks for so little of me...."be" with him...engage with him....focus on him....talk to him...be myself with him. He doesn’t want to change me....he just likes certain things. Nails? Hair? Clothing? Nothing he’s asked for is difficult....just different. And he’s not forbidding me completely...he’s just choosing the time and place for his happiness.

He did ask an interesting question though...does submission only come by doing those things that I dislike, find difficult, or hate? Or can it come by doing things I like as well?

Submission isn’t about doing or not doing something. One manifestation of it is indeed doing things which he wants...but which I may not always like. But submission to me is a mind-set; a way of looking at a relationship and saying "you’re the lead....you’re the focus....your happiness is most important because when you’re happy....you make me happy". Submissive mind is all-encompassing. It permeates every interaction...every nuance. It is a calming, expression of trust in myself, in him, and our relationship. I submit to his judgment. I submit to his control. I submit to his opinion and desire. I willingly go where he leads. That’s why my hesitation about him took so long. I trusted him...but was I willing to put my trust in him? That’s what I needed to figure out I think. Love isn’t for certain. It may not be forever, and it can’t be forced. I needed time and he gave it to me.

So today I am owned again. The second time in my life. This will be the last though....I know it and I'm getting to old to find my way again. That’s why I took my time. I loved Jon, but I wasn’t "in love" with him. With Sir...I’m so in love with him I needed to learn how to trust in my love for him too.

Wednesday, July 8, 2009

I Just Can't Help Wanting

Sometimes I just can’t help wanting things.

You know how it is...the craving for a really delicious piece of silky-smooth dark chocolate; the longing for a lazy summer day at the beach with the smell of coconut; the crispness of the fall air while apple picking; and the excitement of the first snowflake floating along the air in winter. Cravings that left unfulfilled, turn into an addiction.

I usually take stock of my life in January and July of each year. I look to the future and reflect on the past at those times. It helps me along with figuring out whether my wantings have gotten out of hand, and if they have...gives me an idea of whether or not they ever could be fulfilled before turning into those crazy cravings that must be fulfilled at all costs. I don’t particularly like the all-costs of some of my cravings, so I try to make sure they’re taken care of long before they become an addiction.

As I’ve looked back at the last six months, I realize that I’ve made a lot of changes. Some were my choice, while others were forced upon me by circumstance. Sometimes the point of all these changes escapes my comprehension and makes me just a little bit temporarily crazy. Loss of six months of my best friend due to illness; divorce, moving into a new apartment, job worries, financial worries, car troubles, health issues, and lots of other things, have all combined to make things very difficult for me at times. But I also realize that with all that’s happened, I wouldn’t change a thing.

I’m getting the hang of things little by little and with the help of wonderful friends and a once-in-a-lifetime boyfriend. And believe me...I know that one sounds over-the-top, but with everything that’s happened, that is the one thing that has kept me on an even keel for the past six months with all of the other changes. The one thing that I’ve always come back to for focus, and the one thing that I crave without limitation. If that one turns into an addiction, I’ll be quite happy with that.

I’d been in other relationships before, but never one like this. An abusive first marriage, a series of disastrous and dangerous playmates, and one special man who became nearly everything to me. He was my first real teacher, my friend, my companion, my conscience, and my father figure. He picked up a broken, lost child and helped her find her way in a sea of confusion. And he turned the wanting into manageable cravings. But this new relationship is different. I wasn’t broken, I wasn’t lost...sidetracked a little maybe...but never lost. I was searching for something, without success, craving someone to pick up where the other had left off, helping me continue forward in my journey....and someone with whom I could share that journey with. I never expected to have my heart involved, it never occurred to me that falling in love could be what I craved all along.

I’ve often said that the best relationships work where the imaginary scales are tipped one way or the other...but that they need to be tipped to the other side from time to time when necessary. Relationships don’t work if things are always kept at a 50/50 balance. Sometimes, and very often, they’re tipped in one direction for a time. And I think that the really good ones work because each of the people believes that the scale is tipped in their own direction all of the time. I know it sounds incongruous...believing a scale is tipped in your direction when the exact opposite must be true....but if you both believe you are taking more out of it than you are putting in.....the scales are always tipped against you....while at the same time...tipped toward you. Its hard to explain and I know I don’t make sense.

With Sir, he’s given me so much....and yet at times...I feel like a complete failure, a disappointment. I strive to be better, treat him better, love him more, than I think I can do....trying to tip my scale towards him.

Now, I’m sure if you asked him...he’d say that I’m never a failure or disappointment and that I give him so much....and that he tries to help me be better, he treats me like a princess, and loves me more than even he thought might be possible....and wondering if he’s living up to my expectations or even feeling like a failure sometimes....trying to tip his scale towards me.

As long as we both believe we’re striving to tip those scales towards each other....then it doesn’t matter where along the axis it actually balances....it is the belief that matters.

I’d always swallowed my fears, (except for those damned spiders) held onto the pain, hidden that which could have harmed me. I’d never given the smallest indication that I could be hurt, and I never, ever cried. Not at funerals, weddings, sad movies, or other disasters. I was the strong one, the reliable one, the one that was so stoic, people assumed that I didn’t have a warm bone in my body. But all that changed when I met Sir. He somehow knew what I was holding onto and tried his damnedest to pull those out of me. It wasn’t just because he is a sadist and delights in the pain of others...a sadist likes to cause that pain....and he knew that he wasn’t the cause of it. He just needed to help me face them and get rid of them finally. I can cry now for all kinds of things...and he often takes sadistic joy in causing me those tears....but they’re different from those caused by swallowing painful memories....he gave me the ability to free myself and I gave him the ability to cause my tears....to whose side is the scale tipped? I’m sure we both believe it to be weighted in our own favor.

Monday, July 6, 2009

Weepy Weekend

I don’t know what was the matter with me this weekend. Things started off fine- meeting Sir after his yoga class, dinner with K and K and home to cuddle and sleep. I’d had a wonderful time and we woke up early to cuddle some more before leaving to meet Rica for breakfast.

The problem started I think when I changed my order at breakfast from french toast to eggs. Sir had said something along the lines of me doing that to "spite him". I don’t know what happened to cause him to say that. I just figured that he’d found me to be too predictable and I thought that maybe I had become that. Also, I didn’t really know how the french toast would be...too squishy? That’s always the problem with french toast in unknown places. Sometimes they’re great and others they’re incredibly bad.

Afterwards, we’d spent the day in Harvard again...first at the art museum. That was interesting. He seemed to separate from me almost as soon as we walked into the first room What I most noticed was that he seemed to bounce around from thing to thing, and didn’t seem like he wanted to be with me while viewing the art. I tried to catch up with him, tried to engage him in conversation about pieces, trying to find out what he liked about a particular piece....but somehow I didn’t seem to be able to find a way to be together during it. I’d have loved him to look at a piece of art with me, tell me what he liked or didn’t like about it, laugh over the funny things together (the Floating World? and Hercules as a forced femme?) For instance, I didn’t like the wall of wood....while he’d told me later that he did. What did he like about it? Was there something there that I missed? Could I have seen it differently through his eyes? We both liked the O’Keeffe, but were the reasons why the same? I don’t know the answers to any of these things because I’d viewed everything alone. Another disconnection point.

We’d walked around Cambridge, gotten ice cream, had dinner at a Mexican place, shopped for new pens and books. But something just felt wrong somehow. We were together, but not sharing our experience together. The margaritas were fun, and we both got a little tipsy, and dinner was better at connecting....we’d talked about all sorts of things all day long, so the feeling that we weren’t together shouldn’t have happened. I’d liked the day...walking and talking with him...but it just seemed kind of forced....like we’d both have rather have been somewhere else. Maybe it was that we were both just tired.

We went home for a nap before Trialsinner’s party. This is one time again that I just should have said that I wasn’t really in the party mood...but I figured that we’d had such a nice time at the last one, that we’d have some time together. Another disconnect here.

We’d started out fine...me at his feet, rope cuffs...and him tying the karada. But he’d gotten distracted with another couple and instead of playing, he’d offered to teach them how to do it. Another package tying feeling. But I figured he’d show them, and then we’d connect afterwards. He hardly noticed I was there at all....while I noticed how he always seemed to be focusing elsewhere. I lost my focus then and couldn’t find it again. When he finally asked me if I wanted to fly, I again should have just told him no. The rope wasn’t feeling all that great at that point and because he’s not comfortable with solo suspension yet, it wasn’t going to get any better. I should have remembered that it would be another learning experience for him, and not a way for us to connect. I started to get that sinking feeling in my stomach when I just know I’m not in a good place to begin with....and all the rope is going to do is annoy me. He needs to learn and get comfortable, and I do understand that, and parties where there are lots of people there to help him are good places for him to learn that....but to ask me if I want to fly and then spend so much time on the technicalities...getting the rope looking "just right"....paying attention to the rope...ah well.

He’d tried a different harness and it didn’t work out so well. It tightened on my shoulders which caused pain. My fingers went numb almost immediately which told me that something was wrong...and I had to come down.

Then he’d wanted to flog me....probably he know how my mood was at that point and wanted to try to get me happy. At first I’d said no. I’d already been in rope twice and neither time got me relaxed enough. I’d felt jumpy and irritated rather than calm and giddy. When I’d said no though, he was surprised- like he’d never thought in a million years that I’d say no to a flogging. So I’d changed my mind and said of course. I should have just gone with my gut and spent time together touching and talking. It would have been better.

The flogging was nice, but something was just bugging me too much and I couldn’t figure it out. When he started with the whip, I lost it. My feet were freezing, the room was hard, he was pissed off and at that point I just didn’t care about anything. My only thought was just get it the fuck over with. And that’s where the meltdown started. He knew it, but I couldn’t put my feelings into words without hurting him. I’d lost all sense of him and he felt like a stranger. Even looking at him...it was like I didn’t know who he was. As he said...maybe just too much young puppy energy. And, I think that sucks the energy out of a room.

We got home and all I could feel was a great big emptiness. I was sleeping right next to him, wrapped in his arms...and yet I felt alone.

Saturday started off fine. We went to the parade, had fried dough, strolled through the vendors..and even if the firetrucks got to me after a while, we’d had what I thought was a pretty decent day. We went home and spent some time together. But all I kept feeling was alone. I wanted to be with someone....but Sir needed time to himself. He wanted me with him...and both of us enjoyed the touching, but this was one of those times that it really was all one way..... He loved being touched, but all I felt was as if all he wanted was the touching...he didn’t need me there...and I really felt lost. I can’t disappear anymore....I can’t go on automatic...and I just don’t know what to do when I’m not actually wanted.

Disconnections are happening more frequently now and I'm beginning to understand that I'm not going to be able to do this half way anymore.

But can I remove five years of selfishness to be in a part time relationship?