Into the Void

i stand beside You as

Your partner in the relationship

W/we chose.

Yet, i am aware

Of my lowly position

Beneath Your Dominance

Your Ownership

Of my very being.

i indulge in the

Pleasure of Your touch,

Even when it is striking

Various parts

Of my body in discipline,

In maintenance

In the gentle

Reminder that i serve You.

i live free

Within the confines

Of Your Rules and

Protocols that serve as my

Lessons to become

The prized possession You

Attained through patience

And Adherence.

i am a woman.

i am a mate.

i am a helper.

i am a lover.

i am a nurturer.

i am a free soul.

i am a possession.

i am a slave.

Let me begin by making some preliminary comments: 

1)  Yes, that's an authentic jersey

2)  No, I didn't actually play.  This was for a Halloween party.

3)  Give me a break!  It was about 30 years ago!

This is the jersey of a semi-pro hockey team.  My first game was after having staples removed from bone fusion surgery on my right ankle.  Hard to accept as a 22-year-old that you'll never wear heels again.  I literally endured my first game in a magenta cast from my hip to my toes.  I hated the game.  It was boring!  (OK, I was young and STUPID!)

I saw how cute the guys were and how tall they were....for the most part.  And, THEY WERE MY AGE!!!  While I never dated any of them, I did become friends with a number of them.  Friends enough that the fiancée of the player whose jersey I'm wearing insisted I crash with him and his roommate rather than driving home after hitting the club with the team.  They always acted like protective big brothers, which was great.

Because of this team, I saw a goalie play for the Florida Panthers, a forward become the HEAD COACH of the Pittsburgh Penguins, and another forward become a current assistant coach for the Washington Capitals.  Hockey lets me get out frustrations and make some wonderful friends. 

Well, i've tried multiple times on multiple sites.  i've done the best i knew to be the sub/slave that the Dom/Master wanted.  i've been told i'm too picky.  Oh well.  If i'm not compatible, there's no point in trying to make it work.  The common denominator:  ME!  So, i throw up my hands and surrender.  i'm not attractive enough.  i'm not smart enough.  i'm not submissive enough.  i'm not....whatever you want to fill in the blank with....enough.  So, i will accept the fact that i am destined to be alone for the rest of my life and hope the rest of you have the relationship and dynamic you've always dreamed of.  i never will.

the paper that is me

white, but smudged beyond use

torn, tattered, crumpled

i lie in the trash heap

screaming that there’s still room

to nobody interested

i’m picked up only to be discarded again after i have completed the latest task

at least it was a little longer this time

the rest of the garbage doesn’t want me

any more than the one who picked me up

i’m the piece of paper wanting to be used

but deemed not worthy

left

to

crumple

and

die

Sir desired me to post my writing here.

Ever since i was potty trained, the mere thought of urinating on myself or (even worse) someone else urinating on me has been revolting and disgusting. Urine is human waste. There's NOTHING sexy about it! The Doms Who required that of Their submissive partners were beyond sick in my book. And, the submissive women who were actually willing to ALLOW anyone to do that them were obviously mentally deranged.

Yesterday, i spent over eight wonderful hours with Sir. i knew that He desired for me to not only pee on myself, but to do it while still fully clothed. The closer i got to the room, the more my nerves took control. i had agreed IN WRITING to step into the shower (fully clothed) and pee all over myself. Watersports is a hard limit! Why on earth did i agree to such a thing? Still, i gave Sir my word that i would perform the task as soon as i walked into the room.

Being the caring Sir that He is, He eased my nerves by kissing and fondling me upon entering into the room. He even had me remove my top to ease me into the submission. He guided me to the bathroom, and i dutifully obeyed His wishes by stepping into the tub, still wearing my pants. He demanded my urine. There was no gentle request. There was no encouragement. There was His Master controlling His slave demand. i realized i could no longer hold it as the stream began to flow. No, make that as the waterfall began to roar down my legs. i could feel my emotions begin to flow with the urine. i was so close to tears, but i didn't want to disappoint Sir.

Suddenly, i realized i was no longer peeing, but i was now squirting in my pants. The degrading, embarrassing, humiliating ordeal had caused me to orgasm! How the hell could something so very wrong cause me to orgasm to the point of squirting? i couldn't stop! my pants were completely soaked. Sir appeared to be quite pleased with the performance, and i knew i still had two more activities to endure that i was dreading. Yet, the thought of accepting Sir's urine on my tits started feeling less like a task to endure and more like a new adventure! Even being forced to keep the bathroom door open while using the toilet was easier to endure as my mind began to accept the Rules Sir is enforcing upon me and the fact that i no longer suffer with the mere thought of enduring the dreaded watersports. Now, i eagerly accept it as part of O/our dynamic and i willingly surrender the pride in lieu of the humiliation i had the privilege of displaying to Sir.

In education, everything has a label:  Math class; English class; Chemistry class; freshman; sophomore; assignments; formative assessments; summative assessments….i could go on and on.  The lifestyle also has its set of labels:  Dom; sub; bottom; Domme; slave; sadist; masochist; straight; gay; bi; pan; asexual; monogamist; poly….again, i could go on and on.  i've always “known” i was a heterosexual female who looked down on being anything except equal to a Man within a loving, monogamist relationship.  Anything else was, well, just WRONG!

i'm now 56, and i have to say that my definitions have drastically changed.  i am far more receptive of who i truly am.  It’s been difficult to acknowledge, as it requires a drastic amount of trust.  The traditional household of the 1950’s involved the Man being the Head of the Household, while the woman was the heartbeat of it.  In the modern era, women have been forced out of the home to help make ends meet.  Genders and roles have become confused:  girls are no longer encouraged to offer their submission to their Man.  No longer are Boys taught to become the Men deserving of a girl’s submission.  Discipline?  Oh, absolutely NOT!  To the unknowing eye, she is accepting abuse and staying in “danger.”

Here's some insight into what makes me, well, me!  Being 56 allows me to have a perspective most people under 30 have never seen.  i remember the days of the Father being the Head of the Household.  mom would answer by admitting, “Let me check with your Father.”  Translation:  i defer all final decisions to the Man.  All my life, i have sought a Man Who is capable, willing, desiring to take control of His household.  A Man Who would be brave enough to hold me accountable for my words and actions.  A Man Who would disregard the current status quo in exchange for holding firm to the proven tenets of the past.

So, Y/you’re asking Y/yourself, “What has all of this got to do with the title of this writing?”  That’s easy.  Over the years, i have discovered that i NEED the rules, the lessons, the daily tasks of a Man Who desires to keep me in line.  It’s MANDATORY that He be willing to administer the discipline when i cross the line or don’t measure up.  i want to be able to offer my total and complete submission to Him.  TPE, Total Power Exchange, does frighten the hell out of me.  i mean, to have NO say in what happens…it’s scary.  But, i also feel confident that my Master will make it exceptionally easy to obey His every wish and desire.  He will lead and guide me to become better and everything i do. 

When i fail Him, He will administer quick punishment, disregarding any tears that flow as a result.  He will have full control of me.  i will always be available for His use at His discretion.  Pain?  i'm finding that i am far more of a masochist than i ever imagined.  i crave His pain not only to please Him, but i also want it to heighten my own enjoyment.  To bear and display His marks, His handiwork would be a privilege and an honor.  The relationship and dynamic that W/we create would be intimate and completely filled with trust.

So, where does that leave me?  Am i a true modern woman, capable of forging my way with the same strength and determination of a Man?  ABSOLUTELY NOT!!!!  i am but a humble slave, willing to serve my Man in any way He sees fit.  For me, a dream come true would be to routinely receive His belt, flogger, paddle, and even cane or whip applied to my body.  It’s humiliating to have marks left on a body that used to be mine, but has become HIS possession.  Yet, I feel as if they would be badges of honor and privilege.  As it has been stated to me:  i am His blank canvas to mark and color to His satisfaction. 

A masochist slave for a sadistic Master.  Who would have thought such a thing?

i realize there is no one definition/explanation as to the meaning of serving another person, even within the confines of lifestyle members.  Not only is there a myriad of examples of service, at least as many forms of servants exist.  For years, i believed wholeheartedly that the Man should be the household leader.  i subscribe to the belief that the Man held the leadership position, while the woman was His partner.  To a degree in the vanilla world, this may be the situation.  However, it still felt as if i were leading in the relationship.

i discovered that my submission to a Man delves even deeper.  i began the transformation from an independent woman to a submissive.  The very idea of surrendering any control to another person is unnerving, as it appears to restrain freedom our gender had finally achieved.  Still, my emotions and thoughts enjoyed a freedom previously never known.  Entrusting major decisions, and even some minor decisions, to the Man gives Him dominance over areas of my life.  As such, i began to revert to the protected child, able to enjoy life with a new carefree freedom.

Still, i would attempt to regain the control i had previously granted.  It was so obvious, yet it took years, mistakes, and working with different Dominants to realize the actual issue:  i wasn’t a submissive, i'm a special form of slave.  Once the trust has been established, and i can acknowledge ownership by that special Dom, i willingly choose to surrender completely control.  This control isn’t limited to my sexuality.  Rather, it transcends to all aspects of my life.

To address a Man as Master, knowing He has chosen me as His property is the ultimate relationship goal i could ever hope to gain.  It’s not forced slavery i seek.  Instead, it is a slavery of choice.  i choose to offer my total and complete submission to Him to use at His discretion.  In return, He offers His protection, His compassion, His sadism, His ownership, and potentially His love.  i choose to serve Him with every aspect of my existence, while He chooses to own me as His priceless possession.  In my slavery, i serve His every need and desire.  In His ownership, He serves my base requirement for protection, guidance, structure, and discipline. W/we exchange O/our offerings to bind the commitment between us.

In education, students typically need an explanation for actions. 

For grammar, they want to know why you use a punctuation mark or why you don’t capitalize certain words.

For science, they want to know why certain chemicals are safe to combine or why creatures belong to different classifications.

For history, they want to know why events affected war outcomes or why battles were necessary to resolve issues.

For mathematics, they want to know why you add this time, but divide the next time.

In a relationship, the individuals typically need an explanation for actions.

For a display of interest, the other party wants to know why the interest is there.

For a promise of commitment, each party wants to know why he/she has been chosen above others.

For a betrayal of trust, the hurt party wants to know why the infidelity was desired.

For a choice of the future of the relationship, each party wants to know why the agreed upon path was chosen.

In a dynamic, the sub learns many lessons as a result of an action with no explicit explanation.

For a period of silence, the sub is forced to learn to trust the Dom not to abandon her.

For a physical punishment, the sub is exposed to the physical pain and humiliation that her Dom experiences from her disobedience.

For a scene of sexual gratification for her Dom, the sub is reminded of her place to service her man first and foremost.

For the honor of wearing his collar, the sub acknowledges it is a reward of obedience and proper respect for her Dom.

While an explanation may be required in virtually all areas of the vanilla world, it is the absence of explanation that seems to provide the greatest lessons for subs to serve their Doms to the best of their ability.

     i've been in such a dark dismal place recently, that i truly thought i'd never see daylight again.  i have tried, but failed repeatedly.  i tried to making changes, but it never seemed to accomplish anything.  As my friends know, i had totally given up  i didn't think it was possible for me any longer.  i've been a sex toy.  i've been married (and divorced).  i've been a friend.  The magical combination of a romantic relationship and strong dynamic seemed to elude me.  Now, my age is one more negative factor.  It's no wonder that the combination of my emotions with life was too much for me to handle.

     Then, i met Someone.  Someone Who desires me.  All of me.  i don't even know how to act.  When i speak, i sound as if my brain has taken a permanent vacation.  W/we're learning each other, and i'm discovering that i truly do want to be His.  i want to be His property, His love, His girl, and His slave.  There's an inherent trust in him that draws me in.  i can't describe how i feel at this moment.  i feel like a princess.  He's the best thing that has ever happened to me.  We have actual conversations.  He truly wants to know about me.  i can feel hope finally returning.  It's a feeling i haven't had in so long.  i hope it doesn't end.  i hope that W/we create the ideal relationship/dynamic for the two of U/us.  i hope to have the opportunity to serve Him.  i hope to show i am a good girl.  i want Him to be proud to add me to His collection of loved possessions.  

     While i am still terrified of the potential of completely ruining this wonderful connection, i hope that i will finally succeed.  i don't want this to end.

     i know i sound like i'm rambling, but that's exactly how my brain is going at this moment.  i have clearer thoughts, but way more muddled ability to convey them intelligently.  i know He will read this blog, and i do hope He feels honored by it.