Friday, June 10, 2016

Super... painful

I may have neglected to mention that I'm a superhero. Just like Clark Kent, ladies and gentlemen. Mild mannered slave by day (Ha!)... Saving the world under the cover of darkness. Sorry kids, I can't tell you what I do for a living. 

Either way, it feels like forever since I've stopped by to say hello. I have so many things to tell you all!

First of all, I'm officially a collared bitch... I have been for a few weeks, but now I have the distinct pleasure of wearing a beautiful 24/7 collar. (Need one? Find it here!) It's out there, for the world to see, and they miss it. It turns me on to think that my cards are all on the table, but no one has eyes to see. 


Master whispered, "You have my heart, little one." 
"I wear your heart around my neck," I replied. 


I started this journey to find the person that I knew I was. The wonderful thing about coming to accept yourself is that suddenly, you have no one to fear. I know who I am. I have always known, and I finally love myself.

I am beautiful. I don't mean on the outside... that fades. I have come to find that the woman who wears my skin is strong, passionate, hard-headed, loving, compassionate, sexy, driven, kind, gentle, vulnerable... and in that state of being vulnerable, I have found my true strength.

Here's another first: I went to my first community event! It wasn't a big thing, but it was a whole new ball of wax to look people in the face and tell them that I am a slave. And be accepted for it. It's like being the ugly duckling and then finding a flock of swans. Not only that, but it was the debut of my collar. We thought it was fitting. 

Here is the thing about pain: 
Pain has been the single most revolutionary force in my life. Standing, panic stricken, looking down into the abyss changes your soul. Pebbles slip from beneath your toes and clatter downward... but you never hear them hit bottom. 

I would not take back a single tear that I have shed. Loss, heartache, disgust, hopelessness, worthlessness, despair... I have known these and many more. Each of them brought me here, like stepping stones out of the darkness. Out of that pain sprung a new being. My heart has been softened. Pain did not make me cruel. It made me understanding, forgiving... a kinder and gentler soul. 

So, thank you, universe. Thank you for all the pain. 

And on that note, let me tell you about something that hurt. Master and I had our first real fight. (And for those that might ask, I do have a mind of my own.) The topic doesn't really matter. It was nothing but growing pains. Truthfully, neither of us was right. But it fucking hurt... both of us. It was an ugly tangle... my sword to his throat and his to mine: mutually assured destruction. But in that moment, we stopped. We put down our weapons. 

We spoke our minds, hearts exposed... and it worked. Our love grew a little, right there, while we watched. 

When I got home from work in the morning, I crawled into bed with him, uncertain. I felt raw. In the face of his tenderness, my control fell away, and I cried. He soothed until we both began to laugh. He tucked me in and left for work. 

I woke to him walking through the bedroom door. He laid on top of me. His weight and warmth pressing me into the mattress. I don't even remember what I said. Something snarky. It was a mistake.

The next thing I knew was face down in the mattress. He was sitting on my legs. I was surprised when his hand fell, not on my ass, but on the backs of my thighs. It was as if someone had turned up the volume. The searing heat was punctuated with the sound of his hand landing hard on my thighs. I could not handle it. I was not prepared. I tried in vain to still my writhing. I screamed fiendishly into the pillow. I felt the tears riding the crest of an emotional tidal wave. The sobs caught in my throat. Bitter, hot tears ran down my face into the pillow. 

He finally stopped. The tears did not. My emotions were still chafed from the night before. I found myself almost angry, but mostly hurt. He cuddled and held me until I recovered. 

It confirmed something that I already suspected. My high pain tolerance, on which I pride myself so much, is fused with my emotional state. It's not that I feel less pain, not at all. It's that I can endure it. Pain opens all kinds of wounds. 


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