Cue lights!

The lightbulbs are flashing on so fast they’re blinding me. Unfortunately it’s not yet a steady burning of the light bulb but more a wickedly eye-paining burst. Like someone blinking a flashlight on/off/on/off/on/off in your face.

I’m getting bursts of insight, reason, possibilities but not yet any answers or courses of action. And oh! Another flash! It’s really not my place to state the answers or the course of action is it? I identify the problem and lay it in His lap. That’s my job.

I wonder if He’s regretting this particular part of His job? :-)

Okay. So here’s the latest sputter of my internal wiring trying to glow.

I was typing out a comment over on just_his_girl‘s place. This part here:

“Lets say that your submissive part, which is apparently your stronger side, is neglected for a period of time.”

Yes. Let’s just say that my submissive side had failed to adequately be stimulated for a period of time. Then let’s say that my masochist side is stimulated daily.

Of course my masochist side is going to dominate my submissive side.

Now before I go any further I want to point out that I am not laying any blame here. I’m not saying this is His fault at all. These are the circumstances we live under.

He’s gone 5 days a week. And very often, especially lately, He’s gone for weeks at a time. A whole 30 days in Australia! I can’t serve empty air. As a service slave, for the majority of the time, I am essentially useless in that capacity.

I’m not submitting to anyone or anything during the week. Not actively. My submission only kicks in from Friday night to Sunday night. 48 hours out of 168 hours a week is when I get to be a ‘slave’. I get to cook for Him and serve Him His plate. I get to make coffee and keep His cup full(which I tend to forget about) two mornings a week. I get to fetch stuff, get water, grab His clothes, give Him a shower maybe one time on the weekend.

I give a couple of blow jobs, one or two foot massages and offer my ass and cunt for His sexual use.

And a whole large portion of those two days is devoted to other things. Things around the house that need a man’s hand. He takes me grocery shopping. We do stuff with the kids, or have to sit in the living room and watch tv like normal people with the kids. He has His extended family to visit with. He has other hobbies He likes to spend a little time doing too. Fishing, shooting bow, games. And we have to sleep too. He’s tired on the weekends. He works His ass off all week. He needs to veg and chill and relax and all that funky stuff. He needs time to do nothing.

Of the 48 hours that we have, maybe 10 of that is spent doing active submission. Active service or slave stuff. 10 hours a week.

But the masochist …now that’s another story. That bitch is getting catered to. Every day, all week long, I am hurting *myself* at His direction. Every single day. Two hours of butt plugging, 45 mins or so with the tack bra and the scrunchy, 30 mins with nipple clamps. That’s the every day standard. On top of that there is almost always a task like the two hour clothespins today.

The difference between an endorphin rush when I hurt myself compared to when He does it is noticeable, of course but it’s not impossible. I can cause myself some very intense pain. I cannot serve myself and have that same effect.

And when He’s home on the weekend, He feeds the bitch too. All day long, in tiny little nibbles. Nipple tweaks every time I get within arms reach of Him. Swats on my ass every time I walk by. Not to mention that He does try to work in at least one scene on the weekend, so there’s another couple of hours feeding the masochist.

So yeah, I am heavily weighted on the masochist stimulation. My submissive side is starving. Like a growing tumor, the masochist has almost completely integrated itself into the submission, the service. Now we(I) start extracting it.

Some of this, I am (He is) trying to rectify. Following His schedule every day speaks more to the service side of me than the masochist. Though the schedule contains assigned painful tasks, it’s mostly a service contract. Very precise rules about housecleaning, laundry, my diet and exercise. It’s just a process now of realigning my head back into the service aspect of slavery.

When it comes to the contract and the schedule, I am much more eager to get to the task, the painful parts. A lot more excitement, a lot more enthusiasm. It’s noticeably different than how I approach the chores. So I’m definitely seeing the difference between the two sides of me now.

I’m really confident this is going to work itself out in time. We’re already taking out any pain-inducing punishments to cut off my urge to try and ‘earn’ it. He’s already noted that He needs to step up any scenes so that I’m getting my fix for the good stuff and not for the bad stuff.

That negative reinforcement is damaging. Wow. Hindsight, you know?

la_pasajera_k asked me this: “Is there a difference between his ‘angry’ sadism and his ‘play session’ sadism?”

Oh my God. Yes. A BIG difference. And in all reality and perhaps with normal people, it should work that way. I should be afraid of His ‘angry’ side and the resulting way He would ‘punish’ me should be a deterrent.

But it wasn’t. It didn’t end up being that way. Just the opposite in fact.

He’s much nicer when nothing has influenced the scene. He’s more open to listening to me when I whine. He’s much more gentle with His actions. He still might make me cry but it would be a soft, cleansing sort of cry. And yes, that’s appealing too sometimes, to have that light banter during a scene, lots of giggles and ‘ouch you big bastard’.. like the videos I post.

Then there’s the other kind. The kind that I would give my right arm to have stop *in the moment*. The kind that leaves snot dripping down my chest, sobbing so hard I can’t breathe. Where His strokes are hard and fast and He’s not stopping to ask me how I am or what hurts. He’s talking to me exactly how I need to be talked to, He’s beating me down mentally, verbally, physically. He’s trying to hurt me, and succeeding at it and god dammit, I love that shit.

Guess which one I came to crave? Guess which one I could only get by misbehaving?

Holy crap. What a negative cycle I got in. We got in.

And yeah, getting it by less than honorable means did lessen the pleasure of it quite a bit. But not enough to keep me from going after it. Just not enough. It’s not like I would do this ALL the time.. I mean, I was still a fairly good girl. But one time is too many, isn’t it?

If Master said to me that there would be no more service, no more slavery but lots of scenes and sessions and S&M OR no more S&M at all and we’d only have slavery and service, I’d easily go for the S&M. In a heartbeat. Losing the slavery and service would be as painful as losing my right arm, and feel just as foreign, but losing the S&M would kill me.

inward_singer asked me “is there maybe an element of you only submitting and being a slave so that you can get your fix?”

That’s certainly a valid question from the last few entries. I can say though, without a doubt, that I didn’t come into this relationship looking for a fix. I didn’t agree to be His slave with the condition that He’d beat me and humiliate me. I came into it with every honorable intention of being the slave He wants me to be. Things just got horribly lopsided and turned around.

But it’s not unrepairable. Not by a long shot. We will get it right. To quote Master “failure is not an option.”

I know that I’m behind on comments again. And I’ll be offline now until Monday, unless Master lets me back on early. You can help in that begging process by leaving a quick comment here. He will read them. It can be a petition of sorts! A “Let kaya Online You Big Mean Bastard!” petition!

Maybe without the ‘bastard’ part? Yeah. Okay.

Let kaya Online Please Sir! ;-)

~cunt

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike

Strange goings on

A very strange thing happened today in kaya’s world. I expect to see it on the news tonight. I had expected that people would be standing in the streets with that dazed ‘wtf’ look on their face.. like in the movie War of the Worlds… but when I peeked out the windows it was just another sunny Thursday afternoon for all appearances.

It all leaves me very perplexed.

Time stopped this afternoon. For at least two hours, the clock didn’t move at all.

It wasn’t *just* that I had a very good (and painful) reason to want the clock to move. This was a seriously freaky occurence! I will be glued to the television news reports tonight so I can make sure that the next time I am clamped for two hours, it’s not on a When Time Stood Still day.

Pictures

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike

Greedy Gus

So my task for titty torture thursday is to wear these nasty little fuckers for two hours.

Pictures

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike

“You are His slave and a masochist and these two are at odds with each other” -gentlehunter

I’ve had that statement swirling around in my head since yesterday. Interesting isn’t it? And yet, it’s such a simple fact that has somehow alluded me all this time, even though I know certain things.

For instance; I know that not all slaves are masochists. Not all masochists are slaves.
But I never thought about the two being at war with each other. Rather I thought of them as a delicious blend, a recipe for BDSM. The more flavors you add to the pot, the better the taste. Maybe that’s not true at all.

Maybe it is like pouring chocolate syrup on your mashed potatoes. Or maybe too much of one is like adding too much salt to a dish. (I seem to have a food fixation.)

I looked up the definition of ‘masochist’ and the definition of ‘slave’. That’s something I have done countless times since I started this path to self-discovery. There is something about seeing the precise meaning of the words in black and white that I find comforting. It’s a validation, of sorts, when I begin to feel like my freak flag is a bit too bright. After all, it can’t be *too* much of an anomaly if it’s written right there in Webster’s, right?

So let’s compare the two:

slave
1. a person who is the property of and wholly subject to another; a bond servant.
2. a person entirely under the domination of some influence or person
3. a drudge

masochism
1. The deriving of sexual gratification, or the tendency to derive sexual gratification, from being physically or emotionally abused.
2. The deriving of pleasure, or the tendency to derive pleasure, from being humiliated or mistreated, either by another or by oneself.
3. A willingness or tendency to subject oneself to unpleasant or trying experiences.

And let’s look at ‘service’ as well:

service
1. work done by one person or group that benefits another
2. an act of help or assistance
3. be used by; as of a utility;

Notice anything?

They don’t mean the same thing. *lightbulb*

I know alot of people derive pleasure from service. That’s their kink, their attraction. They need to serve, they need to please, they need to be useful that way. They give massages and cook and clean, do laundry, whatever.

I know some people who incorporate no other aspect of BDSM into their lives except for the titles of Master and slave and the knowledge of being owned. There may not be any intense instances of power exchange. He is boss, she is slave, He owns her, she is owned.

There are other people who are strictly sadists or masochists with no power exchange or service at all except for in that moment of interaction.

One does not need the other to work. And one is not necessarily enhanced by the other. They can, as Gentle Hunter has pointed out, be at odds with each other.

Though I’ve said that you have to be careful to find the partner that best matches, or compliments, your desires, there is one thing that Master and I clash on. I see now that it’s a bigger thing than I had been willing to admit to myself.

I am a masochist and I am a slave. If not a blend of each, then two separate pieces of me. Undoubtedly I am more of a masochist than I am a slave. In fact, I’d even say that I am trying to turn slavery into another extension of masochism.

I can do a foot massage because I want to please Him, because I love Him and because I like doing nice things for the one I love. And I truly do want to give Him a foot massage. But, I can resist giving it, I can wait until He tells me to, I can resist a little more and He’ll eventually order me to with a threat of consequences and *that* process stimulates the masochist. It’s ceased being a gift of service and become a degrading ‘chore’.

When I do follow the rules of slavery set down by Master, I do it with the expectation of being rewarded for it with pain or degradation. When it’s responded to with a hug, a pat on the head or any other nicety, the drive to be a good slave diminishes. It’s all about the masochism.

Master, on the other hand, is a bigger Dominant than a sadist. It’s almost parental in a way. You raise kids with rules and structure and as they grow and learn you offer more freedom, more trust, and reward them with niceties. That’s how He tends to approach me.

Even His sadism seems to be directly related to my behavior. If I’ve been a very good slave, when we play, it’s noticeably less intense, less mean. Less pain, less tears, less humiliation. But if He goes into a scene already influenced by a failing of mine, it’s guaranteed to be long, hard and intense. Just the way *I* like it.

He wants a perfect slave. His perfect slave. I know my rules, I know my tasks, I know what service He wants, I know how to behave, how to talk, how to sit/kneel, I know to watch His coffee cup, to watch His plate. He wants rewarded for His efforts put forth to train me so He can finally sit back and be pleased with this service.

Hell, we’re battling each other.

The lovely magdala said this in a post a while back.

“Our little dog Piper has a habit of holding her leash in her mouth and walking herself. That is what it looks like anyways. She prances around with her leash in her mouth and trots across the yard to do what she needs to do. It’s adorable. And she thinks it is cute. But I do not feel quite so cute trotting around with my leash about my neck and in my hand at the same time. Everything I do is up to me. When he is here all I have to do is anticipate his needs and wants, be available for whatever he wants and make sure his coffee cup is full. (…) He says I am a bright woman, I know what he wants and how he wants it and for me to do it.”

“I told him that all he wanted was a barbie doll slave. One who came with everything and he could take her from the shelf and play with her when he wanted to and then put her back when he was done and not think about her again.”

That *is* the ‘reward’ They expect for Their hard work isn’t it?

I’m of the opinion that this is common. That they do see that as the goal of training. The toys, what they may see as the motivators to get us there, can be put away. I’ve read it, time and time again on different journals. “Now that I’m behaving, the ropes and clamps never seem to be brought out anymore.”

And so we begin the process of goading. Of trying to push them into punishment, because negative attention is better than no attention.

How do you fix this? Whats the answer?

magdala has reached this answer.

“My love for him is unconditional. I love him regardless. I would be wise to take a page from that book and apply myself the same when I get in these moods that come from nowhere and I am feeling very selfish and wanting more. It is very unfair of me to expect more from him when I am not doing anything to make him feel like more. When I am only complaining about not getting things that *I* need. That does not in any way shape or form negate my own personal needs, wants or desires. It only means that He has them also and the only choice I have is if I am going to meet them or not. Apparently, recently, I made a choice to not meet them to the best of my ability. Unconsciously, but still a choice. Thank goodness he loves me regardless also.

I cannot do what I am supposed to do, want to do or what he wants me to do because I expect him to return them in kind. I do them because I love him selflessly, unconditionally and I desire his happiness above all. Who could not feel that way about the man who hangs stars in the sky at night just to make her world more beautiful?”

I think I’m still stuck in the idea that if He wants me to behave and respond in a certain way, He has first to feed my addiction. My addiction to masochism, my addiction to the endorphin rush. An endorphin addiction is a very real thing.

pure_blue slapped me in the face with this yesterday; “I’m wondering also just how much of it is a consistency issue and how much of it is you having your nose out of joint over not getting the fix?”

Ouch, huh? :-)

And this is what friends do. If I need sunshine blown up my ass, I can go read The Beauty Series. If I want to know why I’m struggling over real issues I ask my friends.

I am nothing more than a common street junkie looking for a fix. For all my pride over having never done drugs, being such a goody-two shoes square, I am incredibly addicted to the endorphin rush that being a masochist gives me.

I really don’t know what the answer is here for me. I know that I need to work on separating the slavery and service from the masochism, at least enough that I’m not deciding how to respond as His slave based on where I’m at on the endorphin highway. As magdala said, I cannot do what I do with the expectation that He’ll respond in any preconceived way. I cannot base my obedience on what fix that may or may not get me.

He’s going to get His Barbie Doll slave. His cunt in a cage. I’m going to be happy to be played with, and given that junkie fix, when He damn well feels like giving it me. I can’t force it, I can’t demand it, I can’t manipulate it.

He knows, trust me He *knows* very well, just how much I need it. I can’t demand that He give it to me. I can give Him what He demands because that’s my role. It’s not His role to cave to my demands.

What then? Am I doomed to do the junkie shuffle in silence then? Do I try to break the addiction and lessen the masochism? I don’t know! I don’t know what to do with all these realizations.

Why can’t I turn *not* getting it into as much of a masochistic mindfuck as getting it is? That would be so easy.

Well, chores are calling. Onward we go with unanswered realizations.

~cunt

Be the first to like.

Like

Unlike