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Posts Tagged ‘will’

An e-mail I sent to Master sharing more of what was going on inside my head during sex recently…

So, I’ve been thinking about how to articulate the experience of crying yesterday during sex. Clearly, the pain from the one whip pushed me over into the crying territory. But the experience of having you fuck me in the ass is what pushed me into emotional territory.

As you lubed my ass, I worried about the fact that I have not stretched in a while. Would you just use your fingers? Or one of my toys? Or would you fuck me in the ass? If you did fuck me in the ass, would you go slow? Would you stop if it hurt? My mind was racing with the consequences of the possibilities…all with me just wishing you wouldn’t do anything with my ass at all.

And then you plunged into me…and it hurt…and you didn’t pull out knowing it did hurt. My mind was racing with, “Is this what I get for not keeping up my stretching?” I was going to say that out loud, but I knew that if I let any words out I would no longer be able to hold the crying in. I didn’t want to cry. I felt your weight on me, and your face pressing into my back. It was comforting and painful at the same time.

You then started moving your hips. The pain had mostly subsided, and I was relieved. As you fucked me, though, I just kept thinking how I didn’t want anal sex. I was anticipating and wanting sex with you, but I didn’t want to have anal sex with you today. I was having a very hard time reconciling those thoughts. You were fucking me – in a way – against my will. As much as I’ve asked you to break my will, I was now here in a place where my will was secondary…and I wasn’t sure how I felt about that.

I was desperately trying to hold in crying as you fucked me. As I sit with the feeling now, I ask myself why I didn’t let myself just cry. I realize it is because I didn’t want you to stop. As much as I was struggling with the idea that you were fucking me against my will, I didn’t want you to stop…and I didn’t want you to interpret my crying as a plea to stop.

Then you told me to turn over. As you started fucking my pussy, I went into a head space I can’t even describe. I was trying to hold back the tears, but they were a dam ready to burst. You observed that I seemed ready to cry, which I took as permission to cry. And with my next orgasm, I did…and I felt so out of control. I kept feeling like I had to explain myself, and I couldn’t. I wanted to let you know I wasn’t in physical pain, and I felt relief when you said, “You needed a release.” That gave me further permission to just let it out.

For as much as I struggled in those moments on the bed, I have felt quite calm and at peace since then, although I’m still digesting the experience. More than anything, I realize how in those moments where I was desperately holding it in and trying not to cry I was trying to control your reaction to me (i.e. not to stop) and in general to not surrender control. Seems to be a succinct summary of the larger pattern in my life of trying to hold in what’s inside in an attempt to control my outside surroundings…

This is an e-mail I sent to Master sharing with him my internal struggles about cumming on command…

~~~~~~~~~~

I shared that I had a tough time last weekend, and you asked me why it was so tough. It’s hard for me to pinpoint. I know that during the weekend my attitude was, “Fuck it!” and I just proceeded to do what I thought I wanted. Of course, I didn’t feel good at the end.

It seems cliche to say I was grabbing for control (although eating disorders have a lot to do with that). I have felt lost since cumming on command. Actually, I’ve felt schizophrenic. On one hand, I am calm and fine; on the other, I am panicking. At any one moment, I can be feeling one or the other. I feel like I’ve been teetering on the line of two worlds…with the question, “Which one am I going to choose?

The part of me that panics is not worried about the idea of cumming on command, but the experience was totally different than what I expected. It was so…automatic. My brain was thinking, “I’m not ready yet,” and my body said differently. In some ways, it felt like I wasn’t even there…but it was me…and it just ends up being so confusing.

It’s easy to get caught up in the romantic notions of surrendering…”my will is His will.” Even in the vanilla world, mushy notions of being one with your partner is the stuff of wedding vows and Hallmark cards. Yet now – having had a taste of truly surrendering my will – I shake my head a bit that people (including me) don’t seem to understand the depth of what they are asking for when they say that. Don’t get me wrong, the idea is no less beautiful or no less desired – it is just one thing to think you want to be One with someone and another to experience it.

On other slave blogs or posts to groups on FetLife there is talk about ideas like, “Am I really a slave?” These conversations often center around the fact that in our society, a person cannot be legally owned by another. So really, if a slave decided, “This is it. I don’t want to play anymore” there is nothing legally binding a person to stay. What strikes me about these conversations is that it seems wonderful to create a world where your will becomes another’s but really…isn’t this just a world we create that is separate from reality?

I’ve been happily going down this path toward slavery, and I do so badly want my will to be broken. Yet, I realize now that I always thought that my choice would still be involved. I thought that breaking my will would involve me somehow aligning my choices with yours but – that as much as we could fantasize about me being owned by You – that as a human in a free society my brain would still have to make the conscious choice to do as You say or be as You want me to be. You could command me to do certain things, but – in the end – I would still have to make the choice to follow.

So when my body obeyed and my mind seemed to be bypassed, I was stunned. And then when I masturbated and couldn’t cum or just had weak orgasms, I really panicked. My brain is thinking one thing, and my body is doing another. It’s scary…and it’s nothing like how I thought breaking my will would look like.

“You’re off restriction for the time being.” My stomach sank as if I had just dropped several feet in a free form fall.

I thanked Him because it seemed like I should be grateful for this window of freedom. I wasn’t sure why I thanked Him instead of sharing my true feeling in the moment.

Shortly after we hung up, I sent Him a text asking, “What if I don’t want to be off restriction?”

I figured He’d want an explanation as to why I wanted to stay on restriction, and I wasn’t sure I could articulate why. In that moment, I just wanted to get rid of that free form, lost sort of feeling.

I experienced this free form, lost feeling right before He put me on restriction three weeks ago. We had both been very busy, and we were each preparing for separate, week-long trips. We didn’t have a chance to connect before we left, and I not only missed Him but also started to feel lost.

He remedied this shortly after He left when in a short e-mail exchange He told me, “No orgasms until I see you next. Play as much as you like (or not)…just don’t cum.” I felt instant calm and relief from my lost feelings. I was surprised at the effect this had on me, but I really enjoyed it.

When we saw each other upon our return, He fucked me silly. I came and came and came. I came when I didn’t think I had anything more in me. I was so cum drunk, I had trouble functioning until I’d recovered the next day.

I wrote to Master privately the next day: “When I woke up this morning, I was trying to figure out how to describe how I felt. My brain seemed to be in a different place. The best word I can think of is receptive. I laid in bed wondering, ‘What do You want me to do next?’ It wasn’t an anxious, sub-frenzy ‘what’s next’ but just being patient, docile and receptive to however You direct me next.”

That same weekend, He gave me an assignment to play with myself at least every two hours for at least 10 minutes (cumming was not required; playing and arousing myself was). I was away at a weekend retreat with girlfriends, so it was a challenging assignment. I had a lot of fun fulfilling the assignment (and a few, good orgasms!). In fact when it ended and I was back on restriction, I noticed that my pussy started pulsing and tingling on the two-hour schedule. My body had learned quickly!

After a pause for a couple of days, Master told me to resume the every two hour schedule in the middle of last week. He came to my apartment during that day and watched me masturbate at one of the two hour marks and then fucked me at the next two hour mark.

As He fucked me, I asked permission as usual. He kept me focused by granting permission, not granting permission and allowing me a window where I didn’t have to ask permission. I did get mixed-up at one point where I thought I was still within the window of not having to ask permission and almost came when He reminded me, “Don’t cum.”

Then, at one point, He just said, “Cum.” I heard the command and my thought was, “I’m not there yet.” He was inside me, but I wasn’t on the edge. I didn’t think it was going to happen when my pussy erupted and squirted. I felt it come up from deep inside me, and I was stunned.

I just looked at Him and said, “Is it happening…is my body really becoming Yours?” He commanded me a second time, and I came again.

I know it happened; we both felt it, but there is a part of me that is still incredulous.

After He left, I had a couple of more two hour sessions ahead of me. At the end of the day, I was back on restriction…that was until He called last Saturday.

One might think in my state of incredulity that I’d welcome being off restriction and to feel control of my body again. Instead, I didn’t want control back. I wanted to stay on restriction. I am feeling very vulnerable, which was underscored by the sinking feeling in my stomach. On restriction, I felt safe in this vulnerable state; even the thought of being off restriction brought panic.

Master responded to my text message saying, “You’re off restriction. If you choose not to take advantage of it, that’s your decision.” The only thing I could think of is that self-restriction is like trying to spank myself with a hairbrush – it doesn’t satisfy the need. I shared this with Him and asked to be put back on restriction.

He replied with what I thought was an out-of-proportion and punitive response, which is that I’m not allowed to play at all…and no stimulation (physical, mental or visual). He said He might take me off total restriction sometime before Christmas.

Now my will has kicked in. I am complying, but I don’t want to give Him the satisfaction that this total restriction is affecting me. He saw me today and asked me how I was doing. I responded with a smug, “I’m doing fine.” He was going to fuck me, but since I was “doing fine” He didn’t. Now I regretted my flippant answer. As I write this I both regret my answer and still feel willful.

I think any Master or slave can predict how this one is going to turn out… :-)

I laid my head on His chest with my arm draped across his waist. We finished the bits and pieces of our conversation, and then we fell silent. I noticed our breathing: His faster than mine. I allowed myself to let go…to just feel being with Him.

When I came out of the meditative state I was in, I noticed how our breathing was now in sync. Without conscious effort, we were breathing as if we were one.

———

I like to take classes on spirituality. They can get quite surreal as we talk about the nature of God, the Universe and how we are individuals and part of Oneness.

In one of the classes I took last week, the teacher suggested that there is no God’s Will. You could have heard a pin drop in that room after he said that. Even for a group of people who like to question and understand for themselves rather than take the word of someone else, we were shocked.

“Thy Will Be Done.” It’s a mainstay of the Lord’s Prayer. But it’s not just Christianity; I can’t think of a major religion that doesn’t have the concept of God’s Will in some form or fashion.

I admit in my quest to be the best person I can be, I’ve often thought, “If I could just give way to God’s Will,” then I would be a better person. In other words, if I could just get out of the way, then God would shine through.

I realize my thinking has been the same with Master. If I could just get my willful self out of the way, then I could surrender to His will and all would be well. Of course, my own will does arise, and I struggle with idea of surrender.

I want to surrender right up to the point where I fear I may disappear. I then buck and wonder what I’m doing. I assert my will until my innate desire to be His draws me back in. The circle continues, and – while I do learn and grow – I have believed both my will and His will can’t exist at the same time. I get dizzy trying to decide which one to follow.

What if it wasn’t either/or…what if both are meant to exist…what if surrender wasn’t about giving something up…what if surrender was about harmonizing?

Like our breath syncing without effort while lying together, my will and His will can harmonize and act as One.

Last week, I was trying to make a decision. I knew Master would want input on the decision. I did ask Him, although I asked via a text message that I sent late in the evening.

I didn’t get a reply. I thought of what would make Master comfortable saying yes. I contemplated whether to wait or go ahead. I weighed the “risks” (how far my decision would have an impact, whether Master would approve, etc.), and I decided to go ahead without hearing from Master.

Well, I caught Master by surprise (and not in a good way). Ultimately, He didn’t ask me to backtrack on the decision but was very clear: He wanted to be aware of such things before they happened.

What was interesting to me was my reaction – or to be more accurate – my two, different reactions.

On one hand, I started to panic. That part of me that always seems worried I’m going to displease Him surfaced. I kicked myself for not following my first instinct to ask and for not having the patience to wait for His answer. I wanted to text Him later that day and ask, “Are you mad at me?” I was in a needy, begging for assurance state.

Deeper inside me, I was having another reaction. I was calm. My calculated reasoning that it was OK to proceed missed the mark. I got clear feedback on what He does want in a case like this, and this part of me noted it for future reference. I smiled at this relatively small example of my will and His Will. I was in a self-assured, content state, and I decided any “mistake” I made in this regard was just part of our path together.

In the grand scheme of things, I’d say this is a relatively minor incident. We have not discussed it since, and in some ways it isn’t even worth noting. What strikes me about this, though, is the two different reactions. It is an example and sheds more awareness on how I sometimes feel like two different people.

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.

How do I spell relief? C-U-M

In the past 20 days, Master has let me cum twice (no masturbation or playing with my nipples). Actually, I could have cum a few more times last Monday when He let me play with my nipples only, but I was satisfied in that moment with one, big orgasm.

The level of sexual tension created by not touching myself at all is quite high. I’ve dealt with the restriction by bringing myself to the brink of orgasm several times without touching myself at all (just by viewing videos and reading stories that spark my imagination). It really does underscore the power of our minds in our sexual expression!

I also tried to get creative on ways to stimulate myself. At one point, I was craving feeling my nipples erect and tight. Since I couldn’t touch them, I threw my bed covers off of me and hoped that the chilly room would make them stand up. It didn’t work very well (maybe winter would be a better time to try this trick!), but never underestimate the ingenuity of a sub!

I probably made the tension worse by bringing myself to the brink of orgasm again and again. I didn’t think much, though, about how it might be contributing to stress I’m feeling in others areas of my life (work in particular).

When Master entered my apartment today and asked me how I was doing, the nicest way I could put it was that I was not in a good mood at all. When He asked if I would like to cum, I hugged Him and begged, “Yes, yes! Please make me cum!”

He let me have a treat today and suspended the requirement to ask permission to cum each time. He said I could cum as many times as I wanted when I wanted to. Oh, his cock felt so good inside me! …and his mouth on my nipples. Mmmmmm. My pussy is on fire just thinking about it again! I tried to keep count of my orgasms, but I lost track after five.

I came hardest when He was teasing and touching my nipples. At one point He just hovered over one nipple and let His breath tease it. I came very easily by just feeling his breath on my nip and his hard cock resting inside me!

He’s now said I can play with myself unrestricted this week. I’ve already cum twice since He left, and plan on a nice session tonight before bed. :-)

Interestingly enough, the stress from work and my attitude about it has adjusted significantly this afternoon. Go figure!

Having the restrictions lifted this week will be nice, and I will enjoy it. I have been thinking, though, about my attitude toward restriction.

In my last post, I wondered how long my restriction would last. As I wrote that question, I felt a tinge inside me…like it wasn’t quite right. I also started thinking about Master telling me not to beg to cum last Monday, and I started to question my attitude toward this restriction.

I asked Master for clarification on begging. I asked if He was telling me not to beg in that moment or if He didn’t want me begging in general. He told me it was a command in the moment. Still, it made me think about my begging…

Begging can be very erotic. “Please Master, may i cum? Please may i?” can make the body-tingling tension build for both us. In those moments, I’m not asking for control.

When I wonder when my restriction will end, however,  I am – in essence – begging for the moment I can have control back.

So, one night last week as I was thinking about all of this, I asked myself, “What if every orgasm I have for the rest of my life was by Master’s choice?” I felt my whole being shift with that question. No longer did I worry if or when I would get control back. In fact, I realized that is exactly what I want and feeds my aspirations to be His slave. That night, I slept the deepest I have slept in a long time.

Even when He gives me permission to have as many orgasms as I want and to play with myself unrestricted, He is in control.

Relinquishing my desire for control in exchange for serving Him makes every orgasm sweeter and deeper. It is one more step to surrendering the keys to my soul.

Since my punishment on Saturday, I’ve been noticing a new feeling.

I shared with Master the next day that I’m not sure I’ve felt this feeling before. I described it to him as new level of contentment. The past couple of days, I still find myself fishing for the right word(s). I even turned to the dictionary to help me out.

The best word I came up with is docile. In reading the definition of docile, words like “willing to be led” and “yielding control” resonated.

In anticipation of my punishment, I wrote how I longed for Him to beat my will out of me. After writing that post I had epiphanies about compliance vs. submission.

When He commanded me to lay on the bed face down, I silently said to myself, “Be open.” I knew what was about to happen was going to be a new level of intensity and pain. I didn’t want to just comply with my punishment. I wanted to submit and be open to receive it fully.

When He suggested that 100 lashes might be too much, I silently agreed. That sounded like a lot. He’s given me 25 swats before with a body brush I own and that seemed like it would never end.

So, I laid there centering myself as He prepared me. I didn’t focus on past experience or even try to anticipate how it would be…I just focused on surrendering.

When He was finished and he was putting the collar on me, I do remember wondering if it was over. I felt like I could take more. That is why I was surprised when he eventually told me I’d taken 115 lashes. It didn’t feel like that much. It felt like only the beginning…

…and I say that not wishing I’d received more that day. It wasn’t a hungry, sub frenzy reaction of wanting more right then right now. It was a calm, centered reaction knowing that I am capable of handling this – that I can let Him take me to new levels of intensity and pain and trust my well-being in His capable hands. It was a glimpse into the places He’d take me if I’d surrender my will…and how much I would enjoy those places.

Punishment can be seen as a type of aversion therapy: associate an unpleasant experience with a behavior in order to stop the behavior. I’m seeing my punishment as having an opposite effect: if I don’t change my behavior of hiding and not being emotionally transparent with Master, then I won’t get to experience the wonderful place and feeling where Master took me on Saturday.

Master took me someplace new with my punishment. Since discovering my submissiveness, I’ve also embraced that I’m a masochist. I’ve enjoyed the mix of pleasure and pain that Master inflicts on me. But this was new; this was different. Master said maybe he’s flipped a switch, and I think he has….in more ways than one.

My mind seems to have switched from wondering what I’d give up if I let go of my control to wondering what I will miss if I don’t.

Holding my new nephew (a few months old) is such a joy. He’s starting to smile, laugh and notice more of the world around him. It’s fascinating to look where he is looking and try to see the world through his eyes.

I feel the awesome responsibility as I look upon this child. I’m not his parent, so I can only imagine this feeling is intensified as a parent. As an aunt, I still look at him and think about the delicate balance of letting him grow and be who he is meant to be while at the same time guiding him, directing him and protecting him.

He rubs his eyes as he lays in my arms. It is clear he is tired and fighting sleep. I turn down the lights and turn off the TV as a signal that it is time for sleep. I hold him in my arms and rock him gently. I sing lullabies to him.

His eyes droop, and I watch him travel toward that edge of being completely asleep. Just as he reaches the edge, he wakes himself up a bit. He rubs his eyes again. He stretches. He fusses but doesn’t outright cry. I gently say, “Shhh…” over and over to calm him again.

I would think a baby this small wouldn’t be “fighting” nature so early. Even this small baby is wanting to exert his will. He likes to see the world around him. He’s aware of who’s around and seems to want part of the action. He doesn’t want to go to sleep.

My sister and I discuss whether he needs a bit more milk. While we know an ounce or two will definitely help him sleep, is it really what he needs? He is clearly tired, not hungry.

As his caretaker in this given moment, I know I can’t force him to sleep yet I also know it is what he needs right now. I look at him lovingly and contemplate how I can help him give in – submit if you will – to his needs.

I take my index finger and lightly run it along the bridge of his nose. I guide him in a single direction – to close his eyes. His eyes close slowly, step-by-step as if he is descending stairs. Within a couple of minutes, he is sound asleep.

Before Master locked His collar on me, I had it in my possession. Over the course of a couple of weeks, I progressed from wearing it around the house, to wearing it for a few hours out during the day to wearing it full time (unlocked). I had to report on my experiences. This was my last report. He collared me the next night.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

During a bodywork session today, the therapist noticed my collar. He looked up close and touched it. I smiled. And that was it. He didn’t ask about it, and he didn’t say anything.

I have to admit that made me mad. Not at him. I was mad I was going to have to report to you that “nothing happened.” It proves the points you’ve been making that I’m more worried about what people will think than what they will actually think. And even though I agree with your points, something in me wants to prove my points – to justify my fears and all the feelings that go along with them.

I can feel anger welling up inside me…and I’m trying very hard not to direct it at you. I felt it on Saturday when I shared my fears about my family. I was mad at your curt (although very Domly) responses.

When I read your “OK” response, I was seething. Did you just not want to deal with me and these feelings? Were you dismissing them? I know you don’t do that, but that wasn’t stopping these irrational thoughts from picking up speed.

I was wearing the collar. I’d worn it at home all day. And I ripped it off when I read your “OK” response. It was almost midnight. I knew my assignment to wear it non-stop would start on Sunday. But in that moment I wanted control. I wanted you to respond a certain way. I wanted to be right. I wanted things my way.

I left the collar off for about an hour. I put it on when I went to bed. I was fighting with myself – both wanting to be angry and to let it go. But I’d already decided I was going to carry out my assignment as directed and – by God – I was going to wear the collar no matter what! I was NOT going to push a panic button on my first day of wearing the collar full-time.

After getting through Sunday and writing my report, I did feel better. My anger seemed to subside, and I was hoping it was momentary. Then when you wrote back that the report was humorous (and serious), I thought, “I wasn’t trying to be funny!” I felt the anger swell again. And it swelled more with each e-mail message you sent last night.

I sat here last night and wanted to rip this collar off. I didn’t want to give you a single ounce of control at that point!

I didn’t rip it off, but my will was not letting up. I was going to keep control by not giving you the satisfaction of taking it off! (and now I’m laughing at myself while I write this…)

In the shower on Tuesday morning as I’m washing around my collar, I admit I’m panicking. I’m not taking off the collar but I’m panicking. I wonder if I’ll ever be ready for you to lock it. I’m wearing it right now with the instructions to not take it off, but the truth is I still have the power to take it off. I can make the decision to take control back. Even though I might suffer some consequences, I still have the choice. I still have my own will.

I’ve tried not to fantasize too much you locking the collar on me but – in a word – I’ve imagined it to be “sweet.” You’d lock the collar with some nice fanfare, and I’d happily submit to this next step of our journey together.

With the water running over me, I noticed I was just standing there staring at the shower floor. I’d been in a trance. I was fantasizing about you taking me by the hair, pushing me to my knees, exposing my neck to you and with your strong hands grabbing my throat and locking your control around my neck. I imagined that I was crying and telling you I wasn’t ready yet…that I needed more time to get used to the idea. Without words, you did not indulge my fears. You just took me forcefully and locked the collar.

I indulged this fantasy while driving home Tuesday night. After locking the collar I collapse and just bawl. You let me cry but you don’t leave me alone. You spread my legs and start fucking me. You comment on how wet I am for someone who said she wasn’t ready to be collared. You fuck me; you bite me; you spank me. In between sobs I’m saying no, but I cum over and over again and my resistance wears down. You fuck my mouth; you fuck my ass. You cum inside me and on me. You mark me as your own.

When you’re done, you let me lay in your arms. I’m not crying…I’m not fighting. I know my will is no longer my own. I’m Yours.

There is that part of me that wants to hold on to every bit of freedom I have and is not going to let it go easily – if at all if you leave it up to me to let it go.

I want to be taken. I want to be claimed. I want to feel your power over me. You don’t want to rule by force (and I don’t want to be ruled by force), but I want to feel your power over every cell in my body and know my will is Your Will.