Jessica Jones and Choice (Spoilers)

November 26th, 2015

Jessica Jones – Netflix’s newest Marvel Superhero show. 13 episodes all released at once.

(Possible Spoilers Ahead)

The guys had showed the preview at gaming. They’d talked about the back story. Friends had posted Trigger Warnings as well as praise for it on FB. I knew what I was getting into. On the surface.

I don’t suffer from PTSD. I haven’t had a traumatic past. For those that do and have, I imagine JJ would be quite the challenge to think about, let alone watch. I didn’t see any reason why it should bother me at all. Other than on the surface.

I identify as submissive. I enjoy power exchange from the giving up control side. I fetishize being under someone else’s complete control. I have a con-non-con rape fetish. I like being told what to do. I like the thought of being used. I’ve not been careful about my boundaries in the past.

JJ was a different kind of mindfuck for me. Watching the effect of complete control wielded by someone without a conscience. Watching the effect it had on the survivors. Watching her do what he said without him exerting the mental control. Shouting at the TV not to do it, he didn’t control her anymore. But she’s a hero, so she had to, to save the other people.

It churned up some stuff inside me. Doubt, disgust, fear. Why did I want those things? Was I so weak willed that I wanted someone else to control me? Do I not have any self-respect? What if I ran into a guy like that (not super, but charming, controlling, abusive)? Hadn’t I already let a few guys do that to me? Not to that extent of course. Remember the one who convinced you to lie to your best friend? Remember the ones that had you do things you didn’t want to do? Remember thinking you were not worthy of boundaries? Could that all happen again?

(Definite Spoilers Ahead) Read the rest of this entry »

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Choosing Happiness

January 8th, 2014

I have always maintained that happiness is a choice. That is not to say that I always choose to be happy – as the song says, sometimes I just want to be mad for a while. Or sad. Or scared. These feelings in and of themselves are not bad, it is what I do with them. If I use mad or scared to make improvements in my life, that’s a good thing. If I use sad to let out some stress and tension, that’s a good thing. These feelings become negative if I use them in destructive ways – self-destructive, relationship-destructive, or burn-down-a-building-destructive are all bad things.

The super cold weather has left me lethargic and spacey. He kept asking me what was wrong the other night because I felt off to him. But there wasn’t anything wrong, I was just being my reptile self – having less energy in the cold. I need to work on actively combating that drain, because it’s going to be winter for several more months and things are about to get busy again.

I choose happiness this year. I choose to focus on improving myself and my relationships. I choose to do whatever I can think of to make this year excellent.

That could include more blogging. It could include more coloring (I got adult-crayons for Christmas). It could include more photos. It could include more reading (I just received Bootblacking 101 from Amazon). What it does not include is being negative, lethargic, or passive. Time to get my ass in gear for a great 2014.

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Owning My Shit

August 22nd, 2013

A friend of mine posted recently about his young son, after being yelled at, saying “Daddy, I made you angry.” He then had to pause and reflect on his anger and tell his son, “I am angry, but you didn’t make me this way.” He realized that his anger was his own reaction, not his son’s doing.

I get cranky sometimes, at things people say or do. We all do. But it is important to remember, this is how you are Choosing to react. It is not the other person’s fault, it is a choice you are making. When people get cranky at me, my gut reaction, is to get snippy back. This is still a choice, it is a learned reaction, by my own choice.

Today, I chose to be more aware of this behavior in myself. The only way for me to unlearn this choice, is to teach myself something else. I cannot control what other people do, I can only accept them for who they are, and choose to react in a way that serves me better. And in the end, this will serve my relationships better than adding negativity to the cycle.

This also goes along with holding grudges/holding onto hate/dislike for someone. If you hold on to negative feelings for someone, especially someone you don’t actually ever interact with, it is doing nothing to them, and only harming yourself. If it is someone you do interact with, you may feel justified, by making them feel as bad as you do, but look around, you’re making life miserable for everyone else around you, too, not just the person you’re mad at.

Something I am working on with all of this, is to analyze my reactions. Why did that upset me? Why did I react that way? What is really going on? In the moment, these are very difficult questions to remember, let alone answer. Sometimes the answers go along the lines of “it ruined my night” or “time is limited and precious” or “it’s not fair.” But then I have to ask, but did it really? Is it really? Usually the answer is no. Usually whatever negative thing happened only darkened that moment in time. Usually there is plenty of time left, or coming, or the ultimate optimistic thought: “we have the rest of our lives.” And let’s not even get into trying to define “fairness” in life. Every person is different, every relationship is different, fair is a ball hit between first and third base. Trying to define it anywhere else is ludicrous.

Sometimes the answer to “what is really going on” is envy or jealousy. Both normal, human feelings. And, as has been stated many times before, and being the point of this post, what matters is what you do with that feeling. Becoming angry or upset, lashing out or freaking out, will hardly ever get you the result you desire. I know, I’ve tried. 😉 When those feelings rear their heads, it is time to sit down with myself. To think about why I am feeling that way, and what I can do to resolve those feelings. Do I need to ask for something? Do I need to work towards something? Do I need to take a deep breath and just remember all the wonderful that I have?

I am in charge of my own happiness. I get to decide to be happy, or not. I get to decide how I react to stimuli. I get to decide how I express myself and all my crazy emotions. And I get to decide who I share all of this with.

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Loud and Sparkling

July 5th, 2012

It’s a rambly day I think. I’m on vacation with hubby, back to his hometown. Back to being quiet and hiding. Not because I have to be quiet here, but because I am. Because everyone talks loudly and at length, and I mostly just listen. We’ve been gone five years, there’s a lot to say, I guess.

Hiding? Well, I’ll have to on the vacation to see my family, too. No telling the parents the truth. No mentioning my boyfriend or his girlfriend around the family, though hubby did mention rope work, and suspension to MIL, she didn’t seem sure what to make of it. She has recently read the 50 Shades books, and liked them, but “would not want that to happen to” her. I haven’t read them, but seems to me, the lady made the choice to do those things, they didn’t just “happen to” her, but I digress, and don’t actually know. Though, I feel like I ought to read them, just for blog’s sake if nothing else.

In other big news, our club has closed. So, our Saturday weekly venue is gone. That sucks, but we shall persevere, and actually get to go to community events on Saturdays for a while, not to mention it’ll make summer planning a bit easier. Looking forward to what’s next, as well, whatever it may be.

Brain’s all swirly, and dreams have been matching it. Snakes, crocodiles, non-con knife play, seduction, and electric play. In one dream, I actually told the guy who’d cut the fuck out of my back and legs and pushed me into a pool with a crocodile, that blood play was against my hard limits. Apparently I didn’t mind the hungry croc in the bottom of the pool so much as the fact he wasn’t allowed to cross my hard limits with blood.

The engineer sent me a lovely link for the 4th from FL, of a girl covered in patriotic needle play with sparklers attached to the cross she was leaning against. It was quite pretty, but like the fireworks last night, much better viewed from a distance. I was not happy about the loud explosions and showers of sparks from the drunks lighting illegal fireworks off a nearby roof. Even if none of the sparks reached the ground lit. I could hear some of the bits landing nearby. The legal show down the road was pretty, once we figured out how to see it.

Pulled together all the MDQ Issue 3 articles this week, too. So that’s off to my editor a few days early. Gotta put the photos in and everything still, but it’s nearly ready. Then it’s time to finalize the details for the fourth issue. COPE here I come. 😉

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Keeping Control

October 21st, 2011

Control. I know I’ve written about control many times, in various different ways. Today, a thought occurred to me however, that I’m not sure I’ve clearly expressed before. I just reread my Power vs. Control post, and I see that I didn’t really touch on the thought I had today. I talked a lot about giving of power and control to a partner. But today, my thoughts are running along the lines of: you Always have a Choice. Meaning that both people have control.

I talk about giving up control, of just letting go. Of giving over to the sensations, the scene, the rope. Of not having to be in control for a little while. But really, it’s more about not being In Charge for a little while. I always have the most important control – control of myself. That’s not to say I can always move the way I want, do everything I want, or say everything I want. But I always have a choice. I can always say no. I can always say yes. I can choose to stop. I can choose to continue. I can control my reactions, my processing, my breathing. My partners tend to choose when I have orgasms, but I’m the one controlling myself so I that only have the ones I am allowed.

I talk about not giving control to someone who is not in control of himself. But it is equally important that I be in control of myself before, during and after playing. I’ve mentioned before, those days I just want tossed in a corner and left to brew. And then I’m not. It would be detrimental to my health, honestly. I get that way when I’m not in control. When I want a physical manifestation of control, because I’m not doing so internally. And it would be weakness to give in to that before I’ve regained control of myself. Sure, sometimes I want beaten until I cry, want a cathartic release, but when I can ask for such, I’m far more in control, and in a proper mindset for a scene.

So, in the way my brain is thinking today. I give up power to my partners, but I keep control of myself.

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Within Ourselves

June 10th, 2011

My academic pursuit this month, otherwise known as “I’m tired of packing project,” (unfortunately, yesterday, when I got tired, of packing I fell asleep instead of posting) is The Ethical Slut, by Dossie Easton and Catherine A. Liszt, which I posted about the first time I read it. This week, I read Part 1: Within Ourselves, and took down quotes I found pertinent or important to me. So, I thought I’d make this week’s post a discussion of those quotes. I divided them into five categories: Sex, Poly, Social Programming, Communication and Internal Struggles.

Let’s start with Social Programming. This group is about overcoming our social programming so we can live the life we want to live and be true to oneself. “Our programming is changeable.” “You are already whole.” “ Great sluts are made, not born.” “People… free of shame, would trust their own sense of right and wrong.” (pp. 6, 34, 59, 71) So, what do all these quotes mean to me?

I grew up in a religiously based household, taught ‘how things ought to be’ from a young age. One husband, one wife, kids, and pets. Sex inside marriage only. And no kinky stuff. So, the first quote, of programming being changeable. I don’t have to live with the programming my parents gave me. It worked for them, but it does not have to be mine as well. If it doesn’t work for me, then I can change it to fit myself. The third quote goes along with that. It takes work to overcome social programming, to make myself into what I want to be. I cannot just assume I have all the skills and understanding to live the way I want to live. I have to learn and grow and create my life.

The second quote. Being whole. Society likes to push marriage and kids onto us. You aren’t a grown up, until you’re married. You aren’t fulfilling your purpose until you have kids. And on and on. Not everyone wants to be married, not everyone wants to have kids. There is nothing wrong with either of these things. You are a whole person, in and of yourself, without the need for a relationship or offspring to validate your existence.

The final quote, came from Wilhelm Reich’s speeches to young Communists in Germany in 1936. He was speaking against free expression and sexuality, because this would prevent an authoritarian government. I think it is a good point, though. Without social programming telling us that what we feel is wrong and dirty, we would be free to trust our own judgment, our own selves, about what was good and right for us, and what was wrong. That would certainly reduce our unnecessary guilt and self-recriminations.

So, on that note, let’s move on to Internal Struggles, a lot of which come from Social Programming. “Each person owns her own feelings. No one ‘makes’ me feel jealous, or insecure – the person who makes me feel that way is me.” “Knowing, loving and respecting yourself is an absolute prerequisite to knowing, loving and respecting someone else.” “You must speak truth, first to yourself, then to those around you.” “Shame, and beliefs we were taught that our bodies, desires and sex are dirty and wrong, make it very hard to develop a healthy self-esteem.” “Do remember: your sexiness is about how you feel, not how you look.” (pp. 65, 67, 67, 93, 94)

To live this life, I have had to look inside me, to consider myself and my truth a lot more than I ever did before. I have to take responsibility for myself, my feelings, and my actions, something that in today’s society it seems to be more popular to blame others for. Yes, things people say or do upset me, but it is me choosing to react that way. Me choosing to let it bother me. Me choosing whether to talk to them about it, or brood silently. My choice to let negativity fester or toss it out into the light to die. To be in control of my emotions and my reactions, I have to know myself, love myself and respect myself enough to look for the truth in myself. I have to figure out what’s really going on inside me, so I can share it with those that matter.

A wonderful side effect of this lifestyle I have chosen, has been a much better body image and self-esteem. I grew up hiding my body, wearing baggy shirts and jeans year round. Boys hardly every looked at me before college, and I never gave them a reason to. One day in high school, my mother must have been having a bad day, because she told me I was fat. I took this to mean she thought I was ugly and unattractive. Just one stray comment and I held onto it for years. I didn’t believe that I weighed too much, but unattractive, absolutely.

Then I started dating, but I was still hiding in my clothes. Boys were interested in me, some told me I was attractive. But I didn’t believe them. I started having sex and doing kinky things. Boys didn’t run screaming from my body. That seemed like a good thing. My dad once told me I should get sexy underwear so I’d feel better about myself. That was strange. Dated some more, here and there and around the world. Still hiding. Got married, continued to hide, though I got cuter clothes from hubby and his mom. Other men were still attracted to me. That was strange to me. Why would they look at me? Talk to me sure, I’m bright and fun, but look at me?

We swung a bit and then became poly. We joined a few groups, and started going to events. I got more and more compliments, and people appreciating my body, my energy, my sexiness. I was encouraged to wear cuter (and shorter) outfits. I gained confidence in not just my body, but myself. The community is full of so many people of different body types, and people are attracted to them all. People are attracted to skin, to body parts, to men, to women, to everything and everyone. I learned that you don’t have to be perfect, or a certain size, shape, or height. You just have to comfortable and happy in your own skin. If you feel sexy(and sometimes even when you don’t), you are sexy.

Next, let’s explore Poly. “We tend to like our lives complicated, with lots of stuff going on to keep us interested and engaged.” “Is there some virtue in being difficult?” “The human capacity for sex and love and intimacy is far greater than most people think.” “What rewards can you foresee that will compensate you for doing the hard work of learning to be secure in a world of shifting relationships?” “I don’t have to fulfill every single thing my partner needs or wants.” “Faithfulness is about honoring your commitments and respecting your friends and lovers.” “You don’t have to force anyone into a mold that doesn’t fit: all you have to do is enjoy how you do fit together, and let go of the rest.” (pp. 7, 29, 36, 59, 59, 63, 73)

I’ll start at the top. Complicated lives. I’ve always kept busy. Band, theater, gaming, volunteering, writing, working, studying. My love life was often complicated, even before I came out as poly. I spent time with multiple guys, or with guys who had girlfriends elsewhere, or with different guys in different countries. I flirted online a lot, with men, women and couples. The first time hubby proposed to me, he was already engaged to someone else. I love order and organizing, but my life has always been fairly complicated. It’s not that I’m easy, I have standards, but I agree with Dossie and Catherine, why be intentionally difficult?

Our capacity for love and intimacy is huge. We love family, friends, lovers, pets, people we see on TV, even characters in books or shows. All in different ways, perhaps, but that’s a lot of love, and we always have more for new people coming into our lives. Why should romantic love be different? If everyone is honest and respectful, then, to me, everyone is being faithful. I always did like the song from Kiss Me, Kate with the chorus “Always true to you baby, in my fashion. I’m always true to you baby, in my way.”

Then we get to the rewards for all this learning and growing into the people we want to be. And the remaining two quotes answer that one. In poly, thanks to poly, I don’t have to try and be everything, and do everything, and fit into a mold of the “perfect partner.” I can be me, and they can be themselves, and we find out what needs we can fulfill for each other, and enjoy those things together.

This leads right into Communication, the most important thing, for me, in poly. “Consent – an active collaboration for the benefit, well-being and pleasure of all persons concerned.” “They may be shy in the seductive stages, and bolder once welcome has been secured. Women tend to want explicit permission, and for each specific act.” “Talk clearly and listen effectively.” “Being able to ask for and receive reassurance and support is extremely important.” “It’s vital to be able to give reassurance and support.” “Lots of hugging, touching, verbal affection, sincere flattery.” “You need to know how and when to say no.” “The historical censorship of discussion about sex has left us with another disability: the act of talking about sex… has become difficult and embarrassing.” “What you can’t talk about, you can hardly think about.” “Most of us have been struck dumb by the scariest communication task of all – asking for what we want.” “If you are not free to say ‘no,’ you can’t really say ‘yes.’” “You have a right to your limits and it is totally okay to say no to [anything] you don’t like or are not comfortable with.” (pp. 21-2, 49, 61, 61, 62, 62, 63, 95, 95, 101, 103, 106)

Several different subcategories here. Staring with general communication – being able to speak clearly as well as listen. I have learned, over the last few years, that what one person says and the other person hears, are not always the same thing. I have learned the importance of restating what I think the other person is trying to communicate, so he can agree, or try another way of explaining.

Being able to communicate needs and wants (as well as knowing the difference), and being able to hear the same from my partners has been vital to our relationships. I still have trouble taking about sex out loud, and am sometimes embarrassed to write about it. But we work together, and talk together, and we open with each other and I am more and more able to talk about it. It’s still not perfect, nothing ever is. But I am learning and growing, and overcoming the embarrassment and shame of my social programming.

Being able to ask for and receive reassurance and support, in any number of ways, can be hard. Why should I have doubts and need reassurance after all this time? Well, because I’m human, and imperfect and the little devil on my shoulder, or the little voice in my head gets too loud sometimes, and I need help shouting him down. And it has been very important to me, that my partners have been there to give me that. Even if all I need is a hug, or the words I love you, to calm me down, and even more so, when I’ve wanted a flogging or tight rope bondage.

Then there is consent. I like their definition: “an active collaboration for the benefit, well-being and pleasure of all persons concerned.” We want to have fun, be safe and healthy and work together for these things. Consent is for everyone, tops, bottoms, masters, slaves, doms, subs, husbands, wives, boyfriends, girlfriends. It is not just one person consenting to the other, it is both(or more) people consenting to each other. And being able to say no, is just as important as being able to say yes. You have to be able to say no, or yes doesn’t mean anything. There’s consensual non-consent, and there are no-limit slaves, but in the end, if you cannot ultimately turn and walk away, then you are not really consenting to be there.

On to happier topics – Sex. “Sex is nice and pleasure is good for you.” “We have never met anyone who has low self-esteem at the moment of orgasm.” “The existence of her clitoris was proof positive that God loved her.” “Sex is whatever the people engaging in it think it is… if you… feel sexual… that’s sex, for you.” “Sex is a healthy force in our lives.” “We like to think that all sensual stimulation is sexual, from a shared emotion to a shared orgasm.” “When sex becomes goal-oriented, we may focus on what gets us to orgasm to the exclusion of enjoying all the nifty sensations that come before (and, for that matter, after).” “Sexually successful people masturbate.” (pp. 4, 19, 27, 39. 40, 92, 96, 98)

We live in a culture of double standards. Sex sells – well, everything. But we are taught to avoid it, that it’s dangerous, that it’s only for marriage, that touching ourselves is disgusting. We are taught to be embarrassed by sexuality. But sex is wonderful, and it’s not just about intercourse, or orgasms. Being a kinky person, there are so many different ways that I find sensual and sexual pleasure. Being poly, hubby and I have a very strict definition of what sex is, in regards to our rules about who we can “have” it with. But that is about intercourse and sexual//reproductive health. We give and receive sensual and sexual stimulation with a lot of different people, in a lot of different ways, including our own selves. Intercourse is great, orgasms are great, but they are not the end all and be all of our sexual lives. We like things complicated, remember? I really enjoy the sex-positive nature of this book and the confidence it reminds me to have about myself and my desires in a culture that tells me I am wrong and disgusting in so many ways. I love my life, and I am happy with who I am.

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Trust Your Body, Trust Yourself

April 21st, 2011

A friend wrote last month how she is finally learning to trust her body, through kink. I have been at odds with my body since I was sixteen, almost half my life now. I fight it, I ignore it, I push it. But to trust it? I’d rather challenge it and defy it. She wrote she is no longer a mind in a body but a mind that is a body. I like that idea, and so I’m going to start a rambling exploration of my mind and body tonight.

I’ve spent a lot of time in the last few years in bondage, and in rope suspension. One of the first things he taught me was that I have to listen to my body. That I have to communicate to him what it is telling me. Where there was pain, pinching or discomfort. His suspensions were not meant to be painful, the ropes were there to support, not to hurt. This was a bit of a mind switch for me, because the other’s bondage was often painful, was often part of our sado-masochistic play. I had to listen to my body and trust what it told me. I had to be able to judge when I was done, tell him when I needed to come down. I could push myself only so far. And yes, I often tested those limits, pushed myself just a little further than I maybe should have, challenged myself to just one more swing, or just one more spin. I had to trust my body, but I also put trust in my mind’s ability to recover when I pushed just a little more.

If it hurts, don’t do it. It hurts when I do this. Don’t do that. Pain is the body’s way of telling us something is wrong. But I’m a masochist. I enjoy the intense sensation of pain and the effects it has on the body and mind, when it is pain I am choosing to experience. I kneel for half an hour in meditation, some days it hurts, but I usually ignore the pain and push through. I ignore the body’s cry for relief. I play in ways that cause pain, that cause a fight or flight response, and I ignore the body’s protests. My mind overrules my body. My pleasure overrides my pain. But isn’t this trusting, too? Trusting that even though my nerves scream, my body can take it. Trusting that after, I’ll be okay. I ignore the usual signals, and trust that real damage is not occurring, that my body is not as fragile as some might think.

Is it trust? Or just defiance?

I trust my mind within this body. I trust myself to know my limits. I trust myself to judge when it is too much. I trust myself to beg off or say no. I trust myself to know my body. And I trust my partners enough to crumble and fall.

I trust my mind, but do I truly trust my body? I listen to it, I respond to what it tells me. But I often feel like a mind trapped in a body, unable to feel the way I want to feel, unable to do everything I want to do. I trust that it will not break. I push it and challenge it, and I hope that it will not fail me. And sometimes it does, but more often than not, it doesn’t. In kink, anyway. It fails me, day to day, simple things like opening and reaching, but it rarely fails me in play. It limits me in play, for sure, depending on the day, but when I choose an appropriate activity, it holds up, it withstands, it survives, usually as long as I want and need it to.

So, do I trust my body? I do. It frustrates me and I defy it, but ultimately, I trust it. What other choice do I have? It’s my body and it gives me such pleasure to balance out the pain. It does what I need it to do, if not always what I want it to do. And the better I treat it, the better it does. RA is not who I am, just a thing I am dealing with. Trust is earned and my body has put in the work.

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A Bad Day

April 7th, 2011

I’m having a bad day. Work was fine, the cat didn’t attack me, the weather was gorgeous, no one got hurt or is deathly ill in my immediate life(though, for my good friends who do have that in their lives, I’m incredibly sorry and wish I could be there for them more than I currently am). I didn’t break the car or lose my phone or have drama explode. Nothing changed today. But I’m having a bad day.

It happens time to time. My body fights me. My immune system attacks (mostly) my joints. I have pain and swelling in various bits and pieces depending on the day, week, month, year. I used to take a lot of drugs. A couple years ago, about the time I started this blog, I was getting worse and my doc upped my injections. I snapped, I was tired of the drugs. Tired of the chemicals, tired of getting worse. I changed my diet. Massively. It didn’t cure me, like I hoped it would. But it controls it about as well as the drugs did.

Or at least that’s what I tell myself. I blame the flares on not sticking as strictly to the diet as I should. On not eating raw enough. On not eating alkaline enough. But then I also have two books with opposing opinions on what is and what is not alkalizing. On stress. On empathetic pain, sometimes. I take a naproxen every now and then. If I have a really bad flare, I take a couple prednisone. Rationalizing that one or two pills a week is better than four a day and two shots a week.

I haven’t been to my rheumatologist in a over a year at this point due to money and insurance concerns and the fact I’ve stopped taking the drugs. I’ve still got spare pain killers left from the refills I did a year and a half ago. Probably, they say they should be thrown out by now, but that’s not the point.

I’m having a bad day. My wrist hurts, my elbow is buggered, my ankle’s achey, and my shoulders are cranky. None of it’s debilitating, but it was all worse this morning before I took a naproxen. I knelt tonight, made it to 28 minutes before I got up, and was in tears a short while later. Not tears of physical pain. Physical pain hardly ever makes me cry by itself.

I’m a masochist. A pain slut. I enjoy pain, I get off on it. No, Midori would say, I get off on intense sensation. No one enjoys stubbing their toe accidentally. It’s the pain I can’t control that made today bad. It’s the frustration that got me up from kneeling before 30 minutes because I wanted to stop the pain I could stop, because I couldn’t stop the other pains. And honestly, some days, that’s what keeps me there the whole 30 minutes, because I’ve chosen to be there.

It’s why I’m a masochist. I enjoy control, I get off on power exchange. I get off on giving someone else the power to cause me pain. I get off on allowing myself to feel pain because I choose it. I get off on the adrenaline and the endorphins, too. But on a bad day, I want to get off by choosing pain instead of pain choosing me.

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No Limits

March 25th, 2010

I posted my limits list some time back. Recently, however, I asked him to take me into the darkness. Deep into it, past simple submission and into places where limits only get in the way.

I had face slapping as a hard limit and he stripped it away with logic and I let it go the rest of the way in a burst of confusion, but given the chance, I did not take it back. When I am in that space, I call him Sir, except when I fail to, which is more often than either of us would like, but that is another topic entirely. He convinced me to agree that I deserved to be slapped for forgetting to say Sir because I was disrespecting him by doing so. I agreed to this, feeling he was right, I deserved to be punished for these infractions. Not long after this, he asked if he could now slap me whenever he wanted, and I said Yes, Sir, thinking he meant as punishment as we had agreed. As he laughed at my quick agreement, I realized he meant for any reason, or for none. I fluttered and stammered, but did not take it back. We talked about one reason behind the limit being facial bruising. He even asked me, if I wished to take back my agreement and I said no. I trust him, I love him and I want to give up control to him. Face slapping does not turn me on, but it is one example of stripping away my limits to give him full control.

Giving up my limits, thus far, has been smoother than I thought. Though I still cling tightly to a few, knowing full well I will give them up, but still allowing fear to hold tight so far. He has been steadily working me up to longer whips, and harder floggers since we met, pushing me and my limits. As noted above, I gave up face slapping. Just a few weeks ago, I inadvertently gave up breaking the skin and blood when he used a grill brush on my thigh that did more damage than we planned. He called my limits a checklist, and he is not wrong.

I want to give up everything to him, I want to let go of all control and all choice when I am with him in that space. Limits have no place there. To truly submit to his will, I must be willing to do anything for him, without hesitation. This scares me, but I must not let fear take the control I want to give to him. I must be willing to let him slap me, poke me with needles, whip me, yes, even wrap a snake around me, if that is what will please him. Not just let him, but ask him, ask him to use me in whatever way serves his will. Fear and limits will only hold me back, I must let go.

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