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Just Take It

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o·be·di·ence
/ōˈbēdēəns/

compliance with an order, request, or law or submission to another’s authority.

pun·ish·ment
/ˈpəniSHmənt/

the infliction or imposition of a penalty as retribution for an offense.

 

I know, I know… dual definitions today.  But honestly, it really seems like some of my fellow subs need the reminder.

I’ve mentioned in previous posts (For the Love of the Master) that I am in a few BDSM themed groups on facebook, and I read a lot of various opinions, questions, suggestions, biases, arguments, debates, laments, and bragging from Doms and subs alike.  I’ve seen people discussing every conceivable kink, life choice, type of relationship, and dynamic I could ever imagine, and some I hadn’t even dreamed were possible.  I’ve learned a lot, I hopefully have helped some with advice, and I’ve had some eye rolling moments.

Lately I’ve noticed a new trend.  Or maybe it’s not new but it’s just become more noticeable.  But it seems more and more, subs are whining about being punished.  They admit they did something wrong, but then want to fuss about the punishment being doled out by their Dominant and say he’s being mean, too harsh, it’s (insert whiny toddler tone here) nooot faaaaaair.

Suck it up, princess.

You screwed up.  You were disobedient, or you forgot something, or you broke a rule, or you crossed a line.  It happens to us all, we’re human, it’s part of that condition.  We’re all going to cross lines, forget things, etc etc.  So, you failed.  Stop making excuses and just pull up those big girl panties and face it like an adult.

You’re submissive.  You chose to submit to this person and give them the power to make decisions for you, make rules, and to mete out appropriate punishments.  You, in theory, have a personality that craves the dominance and control of the one to whom you have submitted.  You, presumably, agreed to obey them and do as you’re told, to follow their lead and their rules.

Or, was that just all talk?

Was it just lip service, something you said to get the kinky fuckery out of them, while still trying to control where the relationship goes?  Are you topping from the bottom, or do you really mean it when you say “I am yours to control?”.

If you’re just all talk and no follow through, just find yourself someone to do bedroom BDSM with, and stop pretending.  There’s nothing wrong with simply being a bedroom bottom.  But if you’re not prepared to follow through with fully submitting to your Dominant, then you’ve got no business taking it any further than bedroom kinkery.

Assuming that your Dominant isn’t crossing health and safety lines, or going up against a hard limit, he’s got the right, and responsibility, to punish you when you screw up.  His job (in part) is to direct you, to correct you, and to help you learn to be better.  He sets rules for a reason, and your job is to follow those rules, always.  When you fail (and you will) yes, a punishment is warranted, to teach a lesson and to clear the air and help move things forward.

What boggles my mind, what just has me sitting here all jawdrop and eyegoggled, is that these subs are whining about a punishment rather than focusing on the fact that they failed their Dominant.

You failed.  You broke a rule, crossed a line, whatever.  Sit and think about that for a long moment and then start figuring out the best way to apologize and make up for it.  Take your punishment as something you most definitely earned, and do whatever it takes to make up for what was done.

And when it’s over, let it go, take the lesson and move forward.  No whining.  No playing victim.  Accept it, take it, and move on.

I hope to never receive punishment from my Master.  But if I do, I know I will have earned it, and his disappointment in me will be worse than any punishment he could give me.

And as always…

I am His.

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Posted by on July 11, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

Space Invaders

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per·sist·ent
/pərˈsist(ə)nt/

continuing firmly or obstinately in a course of action in spite of difficulty or opposition.

Well, here we go again!  Master returns in 3 days, this time for a very long stay, the longest we’ve experienced yet.  For 3 months, he’ll be here in my house, and if he has his way, it will become permanent.

He’s already been job hunting from across the country, sending in applications to places in my area, setting up for when he’s here and can respond to any interview opportunities.

Yes, we’ve tried this before, and yes, he returned home empty handed.  This area isn’t a great place to try to find a job, even for permanent residents.  So he’s going to try again, and we’ll see how it goes this time.

Of course I’m excited to see him, that goes without saying.  I am very much looking forward to being able to be with him again, to serving him in person, to swats and play collars and crops and sex.  I’m eager to see his smile and those beautiful brown eyes looking at me in that way he does.  I’m thrilled to be able to have his arms around me again.

But .. my space!  My beautiful, quiet, personal space.  Ahhh solitude, how I love you, and how I will miss you.  I live alone and I love it.  I like wandering around the empty house, like having it neat and clean and just so.  I like knowing that if I get up at 3am and stagger out to steal a snack, no one is going to be woken up or inconvenienced.  I like being able to get up for work, turn on all the lights, and not worry about noise.  I just.. really like my house being empty.  I enjoy his visits but at times it just gets to be too damn much, someone else is breathing my air!

He knows all of this, of course.  We are extremely, brutally open and honest about everything and how we feel and what we are expecting to rear up and bite us with all these changes.  He knows how strange I get about my space and time alone.  And while I’m fussing and fretting and worried it’s going to ruin us, he’s confident we can solve it with strategically placed solo weekends away for him or for I.  I’m dubious.  But I’m willing to let him prove me wrong.

So, we have challenges and hurdles.  Pretty much standard for us.  Will he find a job in this awful economy in my area?  Will I be able to stand having someone in my space all the time for so long, or permanently?  Will we be able to deal with it if he ends up going home and we go back to being long distance?

And now, he’s started keeping a blog of his own.  I’m honestly not sure what brought that up but I do enjoy reading all of this from his side.  If you’re wanting to see how the other side of the slash is viewing all of this, you can find his blog here – Dreaming Illusions

So…. in less than three days, we’ll be together again.  And come what may, this much I do know.

I am His

 
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Posted by on June 30, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

He’s Really Just an Asshole

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self-worth
/self ˈwərTH/

 a feeling that you are a good person who deserves to be treated with respect

Alright ladies, knock that shit off.  Seriously.  Stop expecting assholes to be anything but what they are: Selfish, self-centered, myopic, misogynistic assfaces who deserve absolutely nothing but our contempt and disregard.

Why do we do it?  Why do we let these assholes impact our lives, carve on our hearts?  Why do we even speak to them, let alone care for them?  Oh we have our ‘reasons’…..

 

Reason 1 – He’s just misunderstood.  He had a hard life, or he’s had bad things happen, or mommy never hugged him enough, whatever.  He’s not really an asshole, he just needs that special someone to understand him, a woman strong enough to reach the sweet wonderful man behind that armor.

Why that’s bullshit -> No, he’s not misunderstood, and no amount of hard knocks excuse him being a jerk to someone who is being nice to him.  There’s no ‘nice guy’ hiding in those walls.  He’s really just a mean, snide twat with no redeeming value.  Stop lying to yourself.

Reason 2 – I can change him.  All he needs is my love, and he’ll be better.  I can fix him, make his life better, show him it’s safe to love and be loved, make him a good man.

Why that’s bullshit -> No matter what some lame ass Lady Gaga song says, you can’t cure someone with your love.  You won’t fix him.  You won’t make him suddenly a loving man.  Instead, he’ll break you while you try.

Reason 3 – I need to prove to him I’m as bad ass as he is.  I’ll trade insults, barbs, snarky competitions to determine who’s the tougher one in this relationship.  He won’t hurt me because I’m tough too!

Why that’s bullshit -> Ok, potentially this isn’t bullshit, if you’re a raging bitch.  But if you are, please close this blog and walk away, because I’m really only interested in reaching out to the women with a heart, mmkay?  For the rest of us, this is bullshit because the fact is, you can’t ever out-asshole him.  You’re not proving anything, or being “cool” or trendy or hip or whatever.  There are only two possible outcomes here.  One, you become a raging bitch, which means you’re now as much of a problem as he is.  Or two, you lose, and he breaks you.  He’s never going to be impressed by you… because he.. doesn’t… care.  Nothing you say matters to him.  You will NOT win.

Reason 4 – It’s Sexy.  That smoldering bad boy image.  The snarky intelligent humor.  So sexy!

Why that’s bullshit -> No.  CONFIDENCE is sexy.  Intelligence is sexy.  Humor is sexy.  Being a complete jerk to everyone while people are being nice to you, is NOT SEXY.  It’s rude, it’s mean, it has no redeeming value at all.  And when it’s aimed at you, it will undermine your self esteem until you’re a broken shell of who you were before.

Why am I on this particular rant today?  Because I’m tired of watching amazing women get broken by assholes who shouldn’t have even been given the time of day in the first place.  I’m sick to death of watching these twatwaffles breeze through life shitting on people left and right, while women fall at their feet and they turn around and backhand them for the effort.  I’ve seen women so broken that they actually ended their lives (Sad Sad News), and I’ve watched friends I love wallow in misery inflicted by these assholes.

I’m angry.

I’m frustrated.

I wish I could somehow ban these people from society, but I can’t.

So here’s what I can do.  I can remind you, all you lovely amazing ladies, of some very important facts:

1 – YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL.  Yes you.  Oh I’m pointing right at you.  You know who you are.  You’re beautiful, and amazing, and intelligent, and have a heart that loves so very deeply.  You are so loved and you probably don’t even realize how much you mean to the people around you.  You brighten people’s lives, and you bring something to the world that only you can… YOU.  That unique quality, that mix of personality, heart, mind that is completely irreplaceable.

2 – He’s NOT worthy of you.  Nope, he’s not.  He’s honestly just an assface, who doesn’t deserve you at all.  You’re better than him, you’re far superior in every way, and he should be thanking all the stars in the universe that you even bother to speak to him.  He’s so far beneath you that he shouldn’t even be visible.  You deserve so much more!

3 – There is better out there.  Men are awesome.  Seriously, they’re pretty fabulous, even if we don’t really understand them all the time.  The assholes are not indicative of their gender, at all.  They’re just more visible, because they’re all LOOKATME all the time.  But trust me, there are amazing men out there who will be what you truly need.  I promise.

Look, ladies… there’s one failsafe way to find out if this guy is healthy for you or not.  To determine if he’s maybe just a little arrogant but still a good guy, or genuinely just an asshole that will break you.  It’s a simple test.  You don’t even need a pencil and paper or anything.  Ready? Ok.  Ask yourself this:

Are you better, happier, healthier, more upbeat and positive under his influence?  Does being around him make your heart lighter?

OR

Are you upset, miserable, unhappy, desperately trying to win his approval, in a dark place, unable to focus, unable to enjoy things you always did before?

If you can honestly say yes to the first question, you’re probably ok.  But if you say yes to any of the second question, then wake up and have a long talk with yourself, because he will destroy you if you don’t cut the poison from your life right now.

I don’t know how else to emphasize this… HE is an asshole, he cannot be redeemed or cured, and YOU are worthy of more than he can possibly give you.

Please don’t let some douchecanoe damage you.  He’s not worth it.

Please.

 
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Posted by on June 20, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

The Wood

 

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stead·fast

/ˈstedˌfast/
resolutely or dutifully firm and unwavering.
“steadfast loyalty”

5 years.

Alright, so it’s not decades.  We’re not celebrating our golden anniversary.  But 5 years, in the world we live in, is pretty impressive regardless.

5 years ago today, I stood my pixel avatar in a pixel planetarium, dressed in ribbons, to beg his pixel avatar to lock a pixel collar around my pixel neck.  At that time, it was a fantasy, a virtual world we built together to feed a mental kink we both needed.  I had no idea where it would go or how deep this connection would become.  Before long, we were chatting on skype calls, and the virtual slowly became more and more real.  Fast forward 5 years, and I’m sitting here in my non-pixel body with a non-pixel collar locked on my neck, fielding text messages from my non-pixel Master.

It’s oh so very real now.  Which is not surprising to anyone who reads this blog, of course.  All two of you!

In the world of Second Life, it’s very rare that anyone stays together for months, let alone years.  Everything is hyper-speed.  People meet, get married, have their little pixel babies, fight, break up, and divorce, all in the virtual world, all in the matter of a few months.  But we stepped beyond that, took our relationship out into the real world, and we’re stronger today than we’ve ever been before.

So, here I sit on our 5 year collar-versary, and I look back over the years.  We’ve come so far, learned so much, explored so many new things and deepened our trust level beyond anything I could have imagined.  I’ve done things with this man that I would never have thought I’d want to do, let alone enjoyed so much that I beg him to do them again.  I’ve cried on his shoulder, yelled in frustration, laughed so much my sides hurt, and spent untold hours curled up against him on the couch, watching tv or talking.  We’ve played games together, explored the wilds of my home state, had more Voodoo Donuts than anyone should probably eat, and shared books with each other, introducing new worlds to the other (You’re welcome for Pern, Master).  We’ve had amazing days, we’ve had rough days.  We’ve had celebrations and arguments (yes, I argue!  I’m allowed, because my Master wants pure, blunt honest thoughts from me).  We’ve had mind blowing sex, and disappointing experiments.  And through it all, we just keep tightening the bond, connecting our souls.

Our journey isn’t even close to over.  Hell, it’s barely past the starting gate.  He’s still 3000 miles away, while we keep working on the best way to shorten that distance that won’t be financial ruin for one or both of us.  We still have to work out issues that we each have, and we still have challenges.  We have a long road ahead of us, and that’s quite alright by me, because I know we’ll be on that road together, no matter what.  I know we’ll face each bump, detour, washout, and mudslide together, puzzling out the solutions in the best way for us.

We’re planning our next vacation together currently, and I’m very much looking forward to it.  And meanwhile, we’ll celebrate this 5 year milestone in our virtual world, because that’s where we still connect when we’re apart.  And we’ll spend hours in a skype call, and he’ll tuck me into bed with his voice in my ear, as he does every night.  And I’ll go to sleep with a smile, as I always do, knowing that….

I am His.

 
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Posted by on May 3, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

For the Love of the Master

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ap·pre·ci·a·tion

/əˌprēSHēˈāSH(ə)n/

the recognition and enjoyment of the good qualities of someone or something.

I realize that I’m biased.  I fully acknowledge that my view of my Master is severely affected by the deep bond we have, by my trust and submission.  I know, logically, that he’s not perfect and that he has flaws, shortcomings, even (gasp) failings.

But let me just take a moment to say…

My Master is freaking fabulous.

Nope, he hasn’t done anything unusual or new to make me suddenly need to plaster this all over my blog. He’s the same consistent, steady, rock solid person he’s been since the day I met him.  So why am I suddenly screaming his praises from the virtual rooftops?

Well, you see, I found a BDSM facebook group and joined it, and it’s a very active group.  Many many people talking with every possible view you can imagine into the world of BDSM.  I’ve learned a lot about what people are into, how people view things, and what people are really doing out there in the big wide world.

Seriously, y’all are some freaks.  I love it.  I love how accepting everyone is, I love that everyone in the group (with few exceptions) allows that we each see things differently and that my kink may not be your kink and that’s ok.  I love that people can ask some pretty gritty questions and not be called out as wrong, but have their concerns addressed.  I love seeing how everyone lives their D/s lives.

And I am appreciating my Master more and more as I read.  I’m finding how rare it is for two people to click so well, for their kinks to all match up so exactly.  I’m seeing so many discussions about how this need or that isn’t being met on one side or another of the dynamic, about how people are having to choose between not having that need met, or finding another person to fill it.  I see subs begging for help to deal with being left, betrayed, or struggling to cope with being one of a chain.  There’s also a great deal of happy couples or families, of course.  But every time I read some post from a sub in tears because the Dom she trusted has harmed her or can’t/won’t give her what she needs, I just have to stop, and smile at how lucky I am.

We found true soulmates in each other, Master and I.  We love the same things.  From gaming on the computer, to movies we watch, to books we love to read, we just keep smiling and nodding as we are so in sync.  Our tastes in D/s and BDSM are exactly the same.  The things that would make me cringe, he simply has no interest in anyway.  The things that make me heat up and squirm and beg, give him thrills to do to me, too.  We are both incredibly open and blunt and honest, which makes it extremely easy for me to come to him and say “I read this thing, it intrigues me.  What do you think about trying it out?”.  That easy ability to communicate without any fear of being looked down on for some odd kink I might like, makes our journey down this path more and more of an exciting adventure.

And as I prepare for his next arrival, in 3 days, I am just floating along happily, looking forward to 2 weeks in his arms.  The nervousness I felt with the first couple of visits is gone, I just look forward to having the ability to submit to him in person, which is always pure bliss.

I am, without a doubt, a very lucky girl.  And, as always…

I am His.

 
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Posted by on February 8, 2017 in Uncategorized

 

Value

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self-esteem

/self-es·teem/

confidence in one’s own worth or abilities; self-respect.

Seems so simple, yeah?  No.  Women have such a hard time with this.  Oh, I’m sure men do to, but I’m not one of them, so I can’t really speak to their issues.  What I can speak to is the issues of an overweight, female submissive.

Yep, I’m a fat chick.  Nope, I don’t try to downplay it, or sugar coat it. No, I don’t want to hear your platitudes or “oh but you have such a pretty face” or “you’re not that fat”.  All I hear in that is bullshit and insincerity.  I’m fat.  I’m over 40.  I don’t wear makeup and I don’t spend 2 hours curling my hair.  I’m not ugly but I’m not super model beautiful either.

And I am… completely.. ok with that.  I am extremely intelligent, I have a wicked sense of humor, I am incredibly loving, giving, dedicated and loyal.  I’m a hard worker, I get shit *done*, yo.  I have a million positive things about myself that I’m rock solid confident about.

So don’t tell me I can’t be bluntly honest about being fat.  Don’t tell me I can’t use humor about my own weight.  Yep, I make fat girl jokes about myself.  I also mock my own clumsiness when I trip over a non-existent something on the floor.  I also make derp comments when I do or say something incredibly awkward, like the nerd I am.  What the hell is wrong with that?  I don’t hate myself.  I don’t have a horrible image about myself.  I’m just honest and amused by my flaws and idiosyncrasies.

And here’s the interesting thing about that in a D/s relationship.  My Master values me deeply.  He sees me clearly for exactly who and what I am, he knows me inside and out and loves all of the positive things I listed above.  He also fully acknowledges my weight and ‘low maintenance’ life (no makeup, no fussy hairdos, etc).  He doesn’t try to tell me I’m not fat, or get angry with me when I joke about fat girl things.  He chuckles, and if he thinks I’m being too hard on myself, I might get a swat on the ass or a reminder that he clearly has no problems dragging me off or bending me over whatever is nearby when he wants to make use of my body, fat and all.

Some would say that by making jokes about myself, I’m devaluing myself, and thereby devaluing what my Master holds dear.  I beg to differ.  One of the things he loves about me is my blunt honesty.  Another is my sense of humor.  And one of the best things about our intense connection is just how open we are about everything.  He doesn’t ever… EVER…say I’m not fat.  He just simply doesn’t see how my being fat is any kind of an issue.  He loves me, all of me.  Not ‘in spite’ of my body.. but including my body.  It’s part of who I am.  Like my red hair, grey eyes, freckles, and my tendency to randomly trip over the air.

Do I have insecure moments?  Of course.  Every human being does.  I have my days where I’m convinced I’m the ugliest old hag to ever walk the planet.  You know what?  Even supermodels have those days.  It’s just part of being human, having doubts.  It’s perfectly normal.

So.. subby girls, don’t feel like you have to be perfect, or hide your flaws, or refuse to acknowledge your ugly bits, just to be attractive to a Dom.  He’ll love you for who you are… or he’s not worthy of your submission and trust.

And Doms?  Hey, cut us a little slack hm?  We have body image issues, every last one of us.  Don’t deny them.  Don’t deny us.  Don’t try to downplay our flaws like they’re something to be ashamed of and hidden away.  Shine a bright light on every last facet of our beings that you have in your possession, and say blatantly “I see it, I own it, and I love it.”  You want our self esteem to improve in leaps and bounds?  Love us, exactly as we are.  Blatantly and bluntly point to every little flaw, and love it.  Kiss our flabby spots and wink at us as you tie us up and use us in horribly wicked ways, making it very obvious how desirable we are to you – not in spite of those flaws, but with those flaws as part of us.

We say something like “oh god no, I’m not wearing a bikini on the beach, no one wants to see that beached whale look!” – don’t deflect or get mad at us.  Hell, agree with us – because yes, 300lbs in a tiny bikini is not pretty.  You want to make us glow?  Respond with “hm maybe true, but I’ll strap your naked ass to the bed and fuck you for hours.  Better than a beach any day.”  We’ll melt and be headed for the bedroom or playroom, leaving a trail of clothing behind us and feeling so incredibly sexy you won’t believe it.

We love you.  We worship you.  We want more than anything to please you, and if you make our flaws seem like something to be denied, hidden, ashamed of… we’ll fixate on them and hate them because we think you do too.  If you simply acknowledge them as part of the submissive you love to own, we won’t think they’re a big deal either.  You lead, we follow.  It’s a lot of power, and a lot of responsibility.

Use it wisely.

And as always…

I am His.

 
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Posted by on November 11, 2016 in Uncategorized

 

Slashy Slashy

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OK boys and girls, dominants and submissives.. it’s time to go back to class.

Please, for the love of all things holy (or unholy as the case may be), can we just stop with the slashy talk?

I’m not even going to get into the whole concept of whether or not we should capitalize every single personal pronoun of every dominant person who demands that we worship their existence.  We shouldn’t.  The grammar rules prohibit that.  Moving on now…

What makes my eyes hurt is this type of crap:

“Hello A/all.”  “W/we are so pleased you’re here”.  Blah blah blah.

There is purely no reason for this.

One, it’s an improper use of the slash.  In no example do you see something that says it’s a proper use of the slash to divide two capitalization options for a single word.  It’s just asinine.  Stop it.

Two, it’s bloody hard as hell to read.  When we’re reading, we’re hearing the words in our head.  S/start T/typing E/everything L/like T/this, and it becomes the typed version of stuttering.  Nothing flows, and we lose the point of the sentence in trying to get past all the stops and starts.

(But but Cara, I neeeeed to do this to demonstrate how subby I am to my Master, the GOD OF EVERYTHING!)

Hokay then, here’s an idea.  How about demonstrating your submission in your behavior, your obedience, your deference to the human being that your Master is, and stop abusing the English language just to demonstrate to the world that you follow some super awesome secret handshake high protocol and are the coolest sub ever.

I will never take you seriously as long as you’re doing that slashy talk.  Because let’s face it, if you walked into a munch and said verbally “Hello A-all, how is E-everyone today?”, they’d assume you have a stutter.  They certainly wouldn’t award you a super subbie brownie point.  NO ONE TALKS LIKE THAT!

Also, while I almost never post links in my posts, this girl said it so well, I have to just include her here and say “HELL YES” to this – https://www.notjustbitchy.com/sslashy-speak/

Just. Stop. It. Now.

And yes, as always…

I am His.

(and yes, I know I capitalize his personal pronoun in my signature ending every time.  It’s the one place I do it, because it has a special meaning to us there.  I will take my grammar demerit for it.)

 
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Posted by on July 18, 2016 in Uncategorized

 
 
Dreaming Illusions

Random thoughts

Through Windows

searching for the words

Prima Purrfect

Forget Diamonds, Give Me Shoes