| You protest your dislike of the cane.
The rattan bites into your skin, mercilessly.
And yet, the cajoling, conversation, and rationalization of why something is important is lost on you, until the cane is introduced. On the sight of the instrument, you yield, pliant, recalcitrant, awaiting instruction.
Is there any question that the cane is your friend?
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| I don't believe in resolutions. They just don't work. Characteristically, I have made no resolutions for 2009. But I have a few goals for the year. So what is the difference? Resolutions typically are action items without results, such as "I will work out more this year." Soon enough, we ask, exactly why we are working out? A goal postulates an end without a means; it is up to the individual to come up with the means to attain the goal.
As I reminisce, it strikes Me that D/s relationships embody this methodology quite thoroughly. There should be no punishment for punishment's sake, rather a correction towards perfection. Pain can be a reward, and as most things in life, must be treated as a double edged sword. Intent is always king.
So D and s agree upon a goal (purists: interpret 'agree' metaphorically); D has the responsibility to translate the goal into desired behaviors. Want to lose weight? OK, to the gym with you three times a week, weigh yourself daily, eat the right foods at the right times. When the weight goes up, well guess what happens next.
My goals for My sub? Let's just say that the words 'organization,' 'pimp' and 'slut' auger prominently in them. Your imagination pales to what I have dreamed up. her secret fears and secret desires will find root and blossom this year.
Beware of what you wish for.
Oh, and My supply of canes is virtually endless.
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| - The saying that the Teacher arrives when the student is ready is not always true. Chance encounters can spring interesting dynamics, but one must be willing to learn from each experience. Without the learning, the experience is a hollow repetition of an ingrained behavior.
- Sincerity is foundational, but not all that is necessary in a D/s environment. Openness and connection are required elements.
- The would be submissive who announces that she will do something should be regarded with suspicion. In one encounter, even her ending promise to go away quietly was quickly broken. Best not say anything than to speak of something you cannot do.
- The line between pain and pleasure can blur, but is more often distinct. The difference starts in One's intent.
- The fantasy that lies within pales to the translation into reality. Why not find a way to live your deep desires?
- A Dom or a sub who lacks the ability to be adaptive quickly becomes tiresome.
- Collars, whips, floggers, and implements are metaphorical. The real arena of BDSM is in the mind.
- Before we can address the id, we must break the ego. Before we can address the ego, we must break the superego.
- Words may speak your heart, but your sex speaks your desire.
- The world must balance. As yin complements Yang, so subs complement Doms.
- The world must change. yin moves to Yang and back to yin. Merely the expression of the movement differs.
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| D/s relationships are not easy. Some novices believe this to be an opportunity to experience B&D. But there is nothing further from the truth.
The essence of D/s is agreement, of willingness for submission, of promise for enlightened Domination. There are two protagonists, working together, to produce a wonderful tapestry in which each becomes fulfilled. Our sub willingly accepts Dom's edicts, as she realizes that He sees a path that is obscured to her. Our Dom embraces responsibility for s's safety, well being, continued improvement. Only when a synergy exists does the relationship flourish.
So much can and does go wrong. s wishes something different, expresses herself in manners that confront D at basal levels. she tries to control the interaction, wishing to sculpt every transaction into her script. That is, and must be, reprehensible, questioning s's desire to subjugate. D imposes limits that are unreasonable, harsh, inconsiderate. Also unbearable, the D should be castigated for his wanton manifest destiny, an ego that tries to envelop Nature itself.
The balance is delicate, unique amongst partners. The balance needs be cherished, as once it is upset, can rarely be set back in equilibrium.
No one should have to walk a tightrope, the emotional gangplank. If one cannot focus with will, with desire on this (or anything), perhaps one should seek different modes of expression.
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| you balk.
it is too... hard... intense... painful...
in thought.
time to transcend
beyond what is then
not now
not ever except in imagination
not ever except in history
not ever except in your mind
not ever except as you spin it
not ever
time to release
now
or is it forever?
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| In conversations with others, and in surveying some blog postings, I am fascinated by our reliance of labels in the 'lifestyle.' Top/bottom, Dominant/submissive, Master/slave, Owner/slave, the permutations seem endless. As a method of self identification in order to align oneself towards like minded individuals, labels can help facilitate connections and learning. Any time like minded individuals come together we can experience a cognitive resonance that leaves us with more than we started with. I was intrigued with the amount of diversity represented at Floating World this year; although I gravitated to sessions involving D/s and BDSM topics, I appreciated that there were many there representing different interpretations of the lifestyle. Proud ponies, M/s, etc., all contributed to a rich canvas of human experience.
Labels can be alienating also. In discussions with an M/s pair, I was astonished when it was suggested that not only this type of relationship was spiritual by definition, but that D/s relationships were not spiritual. Such monolithic thinking does not admit to the great variations we experience as humans, especially in pairs. To presuppose that, simply because I signify Myself as a Dominant, that there is not a spiritual aspect to my relationships is of course as erroneous as the belief that those who align themselves as M/s must all be spiritual.
In another case, a person related to me that a "Dom" suggested that she wasn't a true sub, but merely a bottom. He suggested that true subs have to go through a certain level of pain, be humiliated in a certain fashion, etc. Naturally, he was more than happy to volunteer his services to demonstrate on her some of the training necessary to be a sub. The fallacy of such arguments are clear; who possesses such a monopoly on the Truth to be able to try to force terms and ideas on others? This intellectual righteousness is of course so much specious palaver.
So here is yet another case of ego getting in the way. I wonder how long it will take a group to open up the First Fundamentalist Church of BDSM, along with prescribed rituals, chants, dogmas, and post-service coffee klatches? I say, time to understand the sameness in who we are, the diversity of the human experience. Embrace the common, and attain understanding of that which makes us different. In this way we may grow and better understand ourselves.
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| Things start with a smooth segue, you hating/enjoying the building tension. your mouth bespeaks pain, but your womanhood betrays you. And so, the experience slowly mounts in a predictable fashion, as your feelings intensify, with no before, no after, no when.
Suddenly, a new element is introduced. you feel the spindly points connect with various parts of your body. The sensation in some places is manageable, in others produces synaptic responses and twitching muscles. you can't decide which is worse, a slow application when you get to savor the anticipation of the device approaching a spot sensitive to the technique, or the quick application that plays an arpeggio of explosions inside your brain.
you hands are bound, secured, and you are deprived of sight. And then you feel the sensations again... NOOOOOOOOOOOOOO NOT THERE! your mind overloads and. you.
SNAP.
Ego and superego are dashed against the crags pounded by the tidal force of your raw being. Millions of years of development get ripped through as quickly as a rock dropped into a wet paper bag. What emerges is something primal, atavistic. you are no longer either consious or sane in the conventional sense. you are a changeling, turning into a feral beast. spitting, sputtering, snapping. The wordless snarl formed in your throat comes from a cornered animal with hackles raised, and your biting mouth would rip the flesh of your tormentor. your kicks and knees come close to their marks, but quickly you find yourself pinned, your defiant mane grabbed tightly. And the same discordant noise screeches through your being as the prickling sensation continues, intensifies in spots that make you thrash, howl.
your animal surrenders. Unshackled, you slowly crumble to the floor in a pool of your own excitement. As your breath regulates, you experience your own moistness, dripping down your legs, making your thighs as slippery as tree roots after a summer rain.
Reason slowly returns. As you wonder how your rubbery legs will support you the four steps to the bed, you can dimly piece together what has happened to you.
you realize that you are just a bitch in heat. you will never be tamed, only momentarily subdued. All else is artifice.
My bitch in heat.
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| So your day has arrived.
Is the sound you hear
your id screaming ambivalence?
the fragile demarcation between fantasy and reality shattering?
the demolition of the internal bonds that have constrained you for so long?
Or is it just the gentle wings of a butterfly flying close?
So your day has arrived. | |
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| The day has finally arrived, and in the cover of night, we cross the street and enter the scene. With each step down the stairs your trepidation heightens, as a mix of queasiness, exhilaration and suspense grips your stomach, your loins. Was it twenty seconds or years that the descent took? But now you are here, collared, leashed.
I lead you around, we survey the activity. The evening seems to start slowly, as you go from room to room, as if moving through molasses. We examine the cell, the picture frame, a Saint Andrew's cross, the spanking bench, the pillory, and your mind races, where will He start?
Anticipation builds, and we retreat upstairs for a glass of water, a breath of air. The indecision plagues you, the tension mounts. The sound of your heartbeat in your ears quickens, gets louder. Can you take it? I direct you to repair to the ladies room, to remove your undergarments. As you remove your panties, you note your moistness, and a disjointed intellectual question raises in your consciousness for a moment before being overcome with the power of raw feeling that rolls over you uncontrollably.
We descend again, and your feelings intensify step by step. I stop and place restraints on your hands, your ankles. A small whimper escapes from your lips, as you wonder again, where will He start, where will He start?
It is the picture frame! You mount the platform, and I carefully affix your restraints to the frame using rope and hardware. Slowly the work is accomplished as you try to stay still. Now the blindfold comes down, and robbed of sight, your mind screams wordlessly as you bite your lower lip. I whisper in your ear that I will not gag you, as I want your moans, pleadings, screams to be heard by all.
Slowly it starts. I spin the frame, and you lose orientation. The people on the couch, are you facing them, have your back towards them? There's no way to know, no way to tell. You feel cool hands on your body, touching you gently, erotically, on your arm, on the inside of your thigh. Time becomes a myth for you, as you are gently touched, stroked, caressed.
Ah! A hand slips under your skirt, rubbing your buttocks, grabbing them, parting them. Then you feel your sex parted, touched. Is it your sex that is so liquid, or is it your mind? Thoughts evaporate into a primordial mix of raw sensuality, as your blouse is unbuttoned, breasts played with, nipples erecting. The air seems heavy, stagnant, as your breath comes in a quick pant.
Then you feel something new... the touch of the crop! Slowly, agonizingly it is dragged over your body, and you feel the promise of what is about to happen.
you hear the swish before you feel the bite of the leather! you writhe, dancing to the melody that is playing out on your skin, inside your womanhood, singing deep inside you. you try to count the strokes, one, two... but after five you no longer can concentrate, cognition escapes with each sob, with each whimper you plummet into the depths of your feelings.
you sense hands smoothing parts of you, and I whisper in your ear. Were they words of devotion, or an affirmation of what was yet to come? you feel My hot kiss on your lips, My touch on your body. your breath becomes ragged. Then it begins again...
As we walk to the car, you feel the cool breeze stimulate your skin. Can you recall everything we did? Do you remember the different stations we used? The experience seems a blur, all that is left is a deep satisfaction and the warmth of your reddened butt. As you settle into the passenger's chair, you find yourself quickly drifting off, as your final thought questions what will happen with you when we arrive home. | |
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| Strength is a necessary component of a well heeled D/s relationship. Via strength, we get to plumb the depths of our feelings, our desires. Strength is a balance that occurs between the participants of a deep D/s experience.
For D, strength needs to be severely contrasted with rigidity. The formula, "Me Dom, you sub" is entirely played out. A Dom (or as a friend of Mine might correct me, a wannabe dom) who has a monolithic approach to training is not strong, but rigid. Strength in a Dom, as in life, implies the ability to bend, adjust, and yes, yield (gasp, what heresy). Correction of s is necessary and required, especially as when she violates D's wishes. Strength in D is knowing what to give, when to give it, how much to give, controlling situations and events for mutual pleasure and enlightening.
For s, strength is required for her to carry out D's instructions. But moreover, s requires the strength to rally against her own preconceived notions. s requires strength of character to determine how D helps her, the strength to face her inner world, the strength to let her sensitive self out. Strength and respect are two sides of the same coin. And when strength flags, s should seek D's guidance and support. The joint experience should be one of learning and discovery, of pleasant surprises, of revelation.
Any power transfer requires a balance of strength and respect on both sides of the equation. In respect we explore, plumb the depths of feeling, nurture the sensitive feelings so they may fully blossom. One cannot attain the enlightenment sought without being strong, strong enough to break existing behaviors, strong enough to be great instead of being just good enough. | |
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