Half Anniversary

Six moIMG_9557nths! Tomorrow marks 6 months with Sir and Danae. Whoot! Where did the time go? So much has occurred. So much has changed. In such a short space of time. I can’t even begin to imagine what 6 years might bring!

As I sat at my desk, this morning, the door to the office hesitantly cracked open. I looked up to tell whomever is most likely lost, “Come in” in my friendly receptionist voice. Sir’s face peeks around the corner of the door just as I finish my invitation. I excitedly get up to usher him in when I see Danae is behind him! This was an unexpected and very welcome visit.

As he fully appears around the door, I can see he is holding flowers! I wonder what the occasion is, but am too excited to see them to worry about the flowers. I reach for the two of them as he hands me the flowers and I realize Danae is holding flowers, too. I ask what they are for and if Danae had gotten some as well. They both shake their heads while telling me that they are for our anniversary and both vases are for me. I blankly look at the two of them, long enough, that Danae explains tomorrow is the 10th – our 6 month anniversary! I unsuccessfully attempt to catch the squeal as it spills from my ear-to-ear grin…..and hold the flowers…..and hug them…..all at the same time! They laugh and we all hug, as the warmth of our love surrounds us there in my normal, everyday office space. What a wonderful surprise!

What a wonderful life! I am blessed beyond words to have Sir and Danae in my life and honored to have the opportunity to be in theirs. To share experiences, both good and not-so-good. To hold and be held. To do common household chores together. To sit in each others’ company. To do art and write poetry together. To just be. Together. It is such a wonder!

Tonight, we returned to the place it slowly began between us. We sat at the same table in a local pizza place and enjoyed dinner. We laughed and marveled at the changes. We giggled and chuckled at the heady emotion that surrounded us. We celebrated the moments that had been and were currently passing. The food was lovely. The memories were a lot of fun. (Surprisingly, there are quite a few in only 6 months!) The love was almost visible.

Hey, world! Guess what?? I’m in love! I’m loved! I could stand on a mountain top, dancing and twirling, while singing of it to all of you. I am bursting with joy and excitement. The smile won’t leave my face. Concentration to type is difficult, but this is an occasion to be earmarked. One of many more to come, I’m sure.

Happy six months, Sir! Happy six months, Danae! May blessings rain down upon you both. I love you. I treasure you.

His, Not My Own

-written February 13, 2014

I’m finally getting it. I am finally understanding that my body is not my body, my money is not my money, even my rental is not my rental, my car is not my car. I have surrendered my life to a man who I want to be my Master. He hasn’t chosen that, yet, but I want it very badly. Why? I do not know. That is another of those judgments I’m still dealing with. But I do! I want to give my control to Sir in everything. In everything! I want him to control me – through and through.The pussy that I have is Sir’s, not mine.

To spend somebody else’s money without asking is wrong and I would never dream of doing it. I am now learning to ask for the simplest things (e.g., coffee), as it is not my money; it is Sir’s. I’m also taking somebody else’s body places whenever I go somewhere. What right do I have to take it places, if I do not communicate with the owner where I’m taking his body? His submissive. His property.

This is beginning to click, and only began to do so within the last few days. It’s been four months. We just celebrated our 4-month anniversary. And I’m understanding. I don’t know if that’s fast or slow–a shake of the head or a fist pump.

Last night, Sir went to use a rubber band on me. My first instinct, and everything in me, objected. Oh, I wanted it, yes. I did, but I had to complain. I had to flinch. I had to move. How do you not? Then danae told me from across the room to pretend I was a statue. I added onto that in my mind, that I was his statue to do with what he wants. I am Sir’s property and if he feels like marking me with a rubber band, then I should only say, “Thank you for the opportunity.” Because…oh my god…does it feed something in me!

And I do love the bruises. I love it. I don’t view the bruises as I have in the past, as something to show off – something to be proud of – showing that I went thru that trial. Now, the feeling is an amazing and slow-moving warmth filled with love, that he chose to mark me. Sir spoke of a piercing, something I have refused to do because of propriety – because of shyness. In the moment he mentioned it, I found myself not even questioning it. This is his body and if he wants that done, I have no say in this. I don’t want a say in this. I surrender my say, my thoughts, my feelings, my fear, my embarrassment, my concern…to him.

Wow. It is an amazing thing to have this new thought process develop, not necessarily as a natural thing, but as something that I no longer have to force myself to think about. It just started being there. Not that it occurs all the time, trust me! Last night I totally forgot the very first thing I was taught – to ask to eat when in his presence. It is an interesting development, though. I like it – this new way of thinking. I hope it continues to develop.

Masochistic Judgments

~written February 13, 2014

I found myself, the other night, at a loss for words. Sir had asked me if that bruise (just inflicted on my breast with an nasty little rubber band) was a good one. I did not know what to say and found myself flustered. How do I tell him that it was a good bruise? He had hurt me. That didn’t make sense at all. I enjoyed it and could admit to that, to a degree. Why not let him know that the bruise was amazing and that I was proud to be wearing it?

Well, because my vanilla brain took over and screamed that this masochist stuff was/is crazy! I mean who actually allows themselves to think about, let alone admit to others, that they want to be bruised, hit, and punished? (Can you hear the voices of religion, the 40’s, and society ringing in here? I can.)

Here is my question, then:  how do I get comfortable with admitting to myself and to others that I desire those lovely, crazy things–that I enjoy pain? It feels unnatural. It feels as if it is truly crazy. I believe I am a masochist (I am, admittedly, still learning). I know that it is a part of me and I enjoy it. Sure, I like to complain about it, but I love it.

I did not know I had this judgment sitting so quietly within me. I thought I had worked my way through this. Accepting myself, exactly where, and as I am, is paramount to my happiness; this I know from years of therapy for depression and anxiety. So accepting myself, just as I would accept someone else’s desire for pain, is what I need to do. How? Is it like being with my first same sex partner? “This is the way I am and that it is just the way it is! I don’t care what you think!” Do I just need to continue to tell myself it is okay until I actually understand that it is? Fake it until I make it?

What is it about admitting my masochistic feelings that doesn’t feel okay in my head? In myself?

Well, it’s because it’s lunacy! Who wants someone to punch them? Who wants to be kicked or feel what it feels like to be kicked? I mean, for god’s sake, the idea gets me wet, but who in their right brain wants that? I know – every masochist on the earth. And who wants to do it? Every sadist on the earth. So why can I not be okay with it? And for god’s sake, why am I still struggling with this? Why am I judging myself?

(Please note that I am only sharing my personal thoughts and questions. This in no way reflects upon others. I am attempting to work out my own path.)

Expected Guilt, Unexpected Help

Tonight, I came home exhausted to Sir and danae. As I sat down to dinner with them, I couldn’t even form a coherent thought, I was so tired. I began eating the delicious asparagus leftovers, then realized I hadn’t asked permission to eat. This is one of the very first things I learned with Sir.

In frustration and sadness, I threw what was left of the piece of asparagus I had taken a bite of back onto my plate, cussing at myself. I felt my heart sink and the tears well up inside my throat. I had done the same thing last night when we were out to eat. Where was my head? I know I’m tired, but this is such a simple task. My chest hurt and I was afraid to look over at Sir. I did not want to see the hurt and disappointment in his eyes.

I had to look, though, for what is an apology if you can’t look the person in the eyes? After a moment of sitting with my head hung in shame and frustration at myself, I took a deep breath, gathering my courage, looked up at him, and said, “I’m sorry.” – those words that are so inadequate, so miniscule in the face of what I feel he deserves.

I did not expect to find a matter-of-fact look on Sir’s face. I did not expect a nod of acceptance to my apology. Where was the sadness? Where was the disappointment? Where was the guilt trip? Where was the anger? Where was the punishment I deserved?

Instead of all of that, Sir calmly said he may have an idea on how to fix ‘this’ and that it was going to cause a reorganization of how we do things. I half-laughed, saying, “I’m scared,” as my brain frantically ran through all sorts of scenarios as to what he may be thinking of – none of them pleasant. He explained that it was something he had been thinking about for the last few days – one that was brought up at this last weekend’s ‘mental domination’ class given by Lady Marquetta and Slave Leonis. Sir explained that one of their protocols is when Leonis first sees his Mistress each day, he falls to his knees and kisses her feet. They had explained it was a way to reset. It is used to move Leonis from his independent state of being required by the world, to a place of surrender within Lady Marquetta’s presence.

Sir explained that he thought I might need that transition–a resetting from the concerns and burdens of the world (i.e., a successful administrative assistant, independent woman looking after her house) to that of surrender. He thought maybe we could find a protocol that would work for us both in private and in public (something subtle to be used when he visits me at the office, etc.). He then gave me permission to eat.

My chest continued to burn and was now in conflict with the relief and love I was feeling at his reaction. I slowly took a few bites to eat, contemplating this unexpected turn of events. My respect and admiration for Sir overwhelmed and virtually eliminated my self-imposed shame. I looked up at him in loving wonder. He noticed and inquired. I explained that I hadn’t expected such a reaction. He asked if I expected him to be angry. I nodded my head. He shook his.

danae chimed in and explained that Sir’s philosophy was to look at the why of a situation. Why was I forgetting? He understood that I wasn’t willfully doing it or looking for some kind of negative attention. He knows me enough to know that isn’t who I am. He was trying to figure out the cause and possible solutions. Sir was looking for a way to help me, rather than a reason to punish me. He basically took me by the hand and asked me what I thought of this alternate path versus the one I was on, and then offered to walk it with me holding my hand.

So different than the guilt I felt and the disappointment I expected. Sir helped me replace my inadequacies, fears, guilt, and shame with a positive hope and path forward. It seems to be a way of encouraging my growth, not a forceful tactic or threat to get obedience. It was a friendly hand to assist in my betterment in my chosen path of surrender. Amazing.

This Very Moment

In this very moment, the following describes where I am.

SERVICE: I am in service to a man of regard. A man that is stately, driven, self-confident, and caring. A man strong enough to run his own businesses and desire to own, not just one, but two slaves. Owning, as in owning their entire lives–their history, their ugliness, their fears, their joys, their idiosyncrasies, their desires, and their bodies. (I’m not sure I can handle my own life at times, let alone someone else’s!)

LOVE: I am in love with a woman who has a magnificent heart. She is articulate, wise, concerned, and artistically talented. She is beautiful all the way through. Her drive in life is amazing. She has lived through so much and will help anyone along their path. danae is a treasure that shines through the darkness.

FAMILY: I find myself wrapped in arms of acceptance and arms of family in a way I’ve never been before. The love, the everyday struggles and joys, the companionship, the laughter, the tears, and the peace of sitting together, even in silence. It is something I marvel at each evening I am honored to spend with them. I love the trust, the respect, and the encouragement Sir and danae offer me. The mutual desire is an awe, yet such a natural part of who we all are.

STRONG: I am in a place for the first time in my life where I can actually see the future as something bright. I didn’t realize it, but my childhood was filled with darkness–the darkness of depression and hopelessness. I’ve lived through some things–some not so pretty things. I have always been the peace-maker, avoiding conflict like it was a plague. I have always avoided rocking the boat. I was happy to be the wallflower where I hoped the pains of life might not see me and pass by. With help over the years from an inspiring woman, I have discovered my strength, my individuality, myself–the beautiful heart that I truly am. She has helped me to stand and be proud of the person I am.

ME–JUST ME: I am proudly a femme, a child at heart, a budding artist, a dreamer, a newbie at kink and poly, a dancer, and last, but not least, a unicorn!