It’s been two-and-a-half weeks since Master commanded me to cum. Afterwards, He took me off restriction but I asked to be kept on. I have not had an orgasm on my own since.

He did fuck me this last Friday. I came, but it felt difficult. He gave me permission to cum wihtout asking while He was inside me. I’m not sure if it counts as on my own, but it felt like I was still under His control and only having orgasms when He says.

I asked to masturbate today. He granted it, and now I can’t cum. I get to the edge, and I fizzle.

I feel numb. I’m not sure how I feel about cumming on command.

When it happened, I remember feeling surprise. I held my breath for a moment. As I close my eyes now, I see me as if I were a spectator watching Master fuck me. I distinctly remember thinking, “What is my pussy doing?” as if I were asking about another woman next to me.

I just look at “her” in amazement. “How did she do that?,” I wonder. “How did she let Him do that?” like she has something special about her that I do not…but I covet her ability, and I envy her.

How can I be having these thoughts and feelings about me? I’m looking at her like she has some special skill that I don’t have…except it was me that experienced this. The one who has the ability to do this is me.

I’ve always seemed to struggle with my needs vs. another. It’s been this way since I was little. How I learned to deal with this was to be extremely flexible, figuring if I was flexible in meeting someone else’s needs, my own would somehow get met.

It’s a strategy that has never really worked. How could it? At the very least, it makes my needs a guessing game for another person and – at its worst – it makes that guessing game a minefield of my pent up emotions.

This past weekend was such an instance with Master. What should have been a simple conversation about the logistics of getting together turned into me exploding about not feeling like a priority.

When a land-mine like this goes off, my first instinct is to retreat. Fear takes over, and protective instincts kick-in. From the outside, I’m just very quiet – while boiling inside.

So, I didn’t “explode” until almost 24 hours after Master let me know his schedule was not going to work out.

Master both firmly and compassionately replied to me, and all He said did more to meet my needs and soothe me than I could have imagined.

In His message, one of the things he expressed was, “I wish I didn’t sometimes disappoint you. It is an unfortunate inevitability that makes us both a bit sad.”

My first thought was, “You don’t disappoint me.” The way He said it came across as He was somehow falling short. That was the opposite of how I was feeling – which was that I was falling short (unworthy, really).

I then looked up the word disappointment, which is “fail to meet the hopes or expectations of.” It really made me think about what my expectations are, and how my unexpressed needs end up turning into high expectations and demands on another when they finally are expressed.

I’ve struggled with my behavior of bending to someone else’s needs at the expense of my own and how it reconciles with my submissiveness. It’s always felt like murky waters – that I was acting this way because I’m submissive…so how could I change it? Never has it been clearer to me than right now that this behavior is NOT part of my submissiveness. It’s borne out of past hurts and feeling unworthy; it really has nothing to do with the present moment. In fact, I wouldn’t even call it submissive behavior. It might be an oblique way of topping from the bottom (trying to manipulate a situation to meet my needs) but really it is just unproductive – no matter what the relationship.

“Lovers don’t finally meet somewhere. They are in each other all along.” -Rumi

This quote showed up in my mailbox today. I just smiled when I read it.

Through a conversation with Master last week, we discovered that I had e-mail messages from the beginning of our relationship that he hadn’t saved himself. So, I’ve been working to identify the messages he is missing from our “archive” of exchanges and getting him a copy of them.

While doing this, I browsed our messages. It was quite a walk down memory lane! In many ways, I see how I’ve grown; in other ways, I see places where I’m still stuck.

Long before Master, I was enamored of the idea of soulmates. I romanticized and fantasized about finding my soulmate. Like the fairy tales, I believed in “happily ever after.”

Sometimes I still daydream about happily ever after, but I no longer believe in the concept of a single soulmate. The word soulmate has a fatalistic connotation that negates the ways we create our own world.

When I read the above quote this morning, I liked it because it describes succinctly the draw we have for another person, but I also interpreted that Rumi wasn’t chalking it all up to fate.

Relationships are hard work, and I think it takes more than fate to bring two people together and then make it work. What I find hardest is peeling the layers of vulnerability. Just when I think I’ve bared my soul, another layer reveals itself.

This kind of vulnerability is not exclusive to M/s (D/s) relationships, but my journey to be His slave is peeling layers that I’m sure I never would have reached in a vanilla relationship.

Even through the roughest of times with Master over the years we’ve known each other, I feel like He’s been in me. That’s why I smiled when I read this quote.

I often feel like there are two people inside of me.

One part of me feels like a scared, little girl. She reacts as if everything hurts her or is about to hurt her. She’s defensive. She worries about people being mad or upset with her. She bends to make sure they’re happy. She believes she won’t get what she wants, and she pouts and can get demanding in her own way – even if she thinks she’s not.

The other part of me feels like a maturing young woman. She’s grown but still blossoming. She may be a bit naive, but she adjusts/learns quickly. She’s calm and peaceful. She doesn’t feel the need to convince people of things one way or the other (although she also tends to keep good ideas to herself when people would welcome them). She’s acutely aware of her surroundings and perceptive to non-verbal cues and meanings behind what is said. She has a strong desire to serve but not as a means to prove her worth.

The little girl is louder than the young woman. She has more energy in any given moment, especially when she senses a danger or a threat. Everything is immediate, and problems have to be solved right now.

The young woman is patient. She senses when the time is right. Her energy is sustained and can last a long time because she doesn’t expend it all in spurts. She discerns whether threats and danger are real and – when they are not – is skilled at hearing the fear that others perceive and helps them to calm down. She has an innate ability to be in the flow and realizes problems untie themselves when living and reacting in the present moment.

The little girl may express herself more, but the young woman is always present. The little girl has been around longer. She likes the young woman, and she sees herself as the gatekeeper – keeping the young woman safe from all the dangers she sees.

The young woman sees the little girl’s pain. She helps and guides the girl and looks for ways to comfort her. She knows that taking care of the little girl is important because she’s benefited from her protection. Even though she knows the girl’s protection is no longer needed, she waits in her usual, patient way for the little girl’s voice to quiet down.

Sometimes I fantasize about being a brat. I want to stomp and scream and say, “no!” as loud as I can.

I also fantasize about Master taking me forcefully when I’m acting like this (pulling me by my hair, grabbing my neck or otherwise giving me some physical jolt to complement His powerful presence). He hears my no but does not take it for an answer.

I don’t imagine acting this way all the time. It’s more that I want the experience of it. I want to feel His No overpowering my own.

I often swallow saying the word no…and not just with Master. I have a hard time saying it in all areas of my life. Psychological explanations abound but this reluctance to say no often seems mixed up and at odds with my instinct to serve.

I know Master doesn’t like the word no. It’s not that I’ve never said it to Him, but I’ve come to believe it is an off-limit word, and I just don’t let myself go there.

If I feel a “no” welling up (not necessarily the word…but the general feeling), I first clam up and – if the energy is strong enough – I might start crying (although I try harder than usual to hold it in).

So, instead of saying no, I pull inside and brood while complying on the outside.

When a no just can’t be held in and it bursts out, it always seems to be more powerful than I intended. I find myself apologizing for coming off so strong and crawl back inside.

I fantasize about letting go of worry and to stop trying to manage these feelings from the inside anymore. But as much as I want to have the freedom to let go, I also want to feel His presence over me telling me to “Stop it!” or just plain “No.”

Last week, Master brought over the movie “American Pimp” for us to watch together. It stirred many feelings in me that I had a hard time articulating while Master was here. I wrote to him later saying I was struggling and asking myself, “Do I want to be an object or not?” Master replied and asked if I’d decided one way or another. My reply to him is below.

Did I resolve what seems to have been a lifelong struggle for me?

Why is this a lifelong struggle? This conundrum seems to be born directly out of being molested.

In the mind of an 8 year old girl…I was having fun being led down a path…following him in exploration. The day I stood up and said, “No” to going with him one time, he went away (which I didn’t intend). I came up against something I said no to, and what I thought was special went away.

I honestly don’t know how my uncle viewed me, but over the years the belief ingrained in my head was “I was just an object to him. I thought I was special, but I was just an object.”

My body and my mind are at odds when it comes to this. I’d say my body craves being an object, and my mind has a reflexive safety mechanism warning of danger.

I keep thinking if I could just pick one, then the struggle will end. But it is like a ball of knotted up yarn…every time I pull a string to try to unravel it, the knot just gets tighter.

So parts of the movie took me back to those old feelings, and my “what the hell are you doing?” thoughts got kind of loud inside me.

I’ve lived my life trying to just keep these two parts in some sort of equilibrium. The one way I’ve known how to do that is to not explore any one side too far….to stuff feelings and keep desires safe in my fantasies.

I want nothing more than to be your cherished object…your prized possession. I just want to figure out how to uninstall the old alarm system.

Well, my week has calmed down…a bit, which allows me to move from overwhelm to self-reflection.

In the quiet, I think about how eagerly I take on Master’s assignments. Even if I struggle with an assignment, my eagerness doesn’t necessarily wane.

He gave me the assignment of a daily task earlier this year with no requirement for reporting. I attempted to do on my own, but it quickly waned. When the assignment came up again a couple of months ago, I was the one who requested to do reports because it is easier for me to fulfill assignments when I know I have to write a report. He expressed a bit of reluctance, which I attributed to Him not wanting to micromanage this part of my life. He, however, knew it would help me and so reporting became part of the assignment.

I’m looking back through my e-mail to see when my reports stopped. I knew I’d stopped them, but I couldn’t remember when. The last report was the week I started my new client (which has dominated my time since). Hmmm…

What is surprising to me is how casually and unconsciously I dropped the reporting (and then eventually the daily task) when I approach all other assignments so eagerly.

Master may be sadistic, but he is not mean. If I’d gone to Him and talked about being overwhelmed, I know He would consider my request for some adjustment. He might deny any adjustment to the requirements of the assignment, but He would hear me out.

Instead, my will wandered in and just took over. I judged what were my priorities and what I could handle.

When He told me I would be punished for not fulfilling the assignment, I froze. I felt both the anger of “doesn’t He understand how much I’m dealing with right now” and disbelief and sadness that I’d treated an assignment so cavalierly. When I’m feeling two opposing feelings at the same time, I freeze (and get quiet).

The fact that He’s holding me accountable for this and intends to punish me makes my pussy wet…not in anticipation of the punishment but that it is a reminder that I’m His. I feel peace under His direction, and I’m glad that I can rest in that – even when I wander off for a moment.

My day sucked.

Besides dealing with all hell breaking loose with one of my work clients (not my fault, but yet-another-problem with the project we’re working on), I have an impending punishment on my mind.

Master brought my attention yesterday to my slacking off in a particular area – weekly reports on instituting daily activities into my life.

I assumed my current life circumstances (a new, big work project) and also the fact that I took the leap into a huge, personal change that we’ve been discussing for a long (long) time would be sufficient explanation. Master deemed these excuses…and my punishment – whatever He decides it to be – will be a factor of how many days I slacked off times the number of excuses I gave for not doing it.

At some level, I get it…and I can’t really argue with his rationale (nor his high expectations of me). But adding punishment to the mix just feels like the straw that is going to break my back right now.

He said I could talk freely on this blog (that my explaining my reasons wouldn’t multiply my punishment), but I’m having a hard time writing all that I am thinking in this public forum. I want to yell and kick and scream and cry “not fair!”

Sometimes I hate how well Master knows me. He sees my struggles and understands yet waits for me to punch out of the paper bag world I’m in.

I’m still smiling from sex this past weekend with Master.

Sometimes it’s the small things that make me smile…like losing myself in the sumptuous task of sucking His cock and licking His balls. There are times I get frustrated that my jaw and my body position prevent me from having more stamina on any particular day, but otherwise time suspends when I’m worshiping His cock. I feel like I could do it all day.

When he slid His cock inside me, he told me I couldn’t cum until he told me to. My pussy was already wet from licking His cock and balls, and I enjoyed His cock gliding in and out of my well-lubricated pussy. When He added licking and sucking on my nipples to the mix, I felt the orgasm starting to well inside me.

At one point, I let out a big sigh…a reaction a bit out of place in the moment. He asked me what that was. I said, “I’m thinking about baseball,” indicating my attempt to hold my orgasm at bay. He continued licking my nipple as He conveyed that He wasn’t sure that would help me because I’d just start thinking about all those balls and those bats and about being fucked with one. I laughed out loud because – yes – clearly that wasn’t going to work now (or ever again!).

My squirting orgasms feel so amazing. They’re different than a clit orgasm, which tends to feel tingly and electric. Squirting comes from a deeper place inside me. Once I have one, they start coming in waves. I feel them through my entire body. They were particularly deep and intense this time. I enjoy how much my body seems to be opening to allow these incredible sensations. Squirting really is about being open and letting go.

I discovered my ability to squirt about this time last year. It’s wonderful to reflect on the joy of the initial experience and how my exploration has evolved my understanding of my body. It’s a connection and appreciation for my body that has eluded me most of my life.

As I look back and see how far I’ve come in a year, I wonder where I’ll be a year from now as I continue to open up and let go.