Under His Hand

The journal of a slave

Internal

Seems the week is getting away from me. Wednesday already and only one post in. I wonder, sometimes, if I would post more or less than three a week if I wasn’t under a requirement. Probably vary I suppose, depending on what was on my mind.

Night before last, I fell asleep right away, and snapped wide awake about 20 minutes later. I couldn’t get back to sleep for nothing. That 20 minute power nap. I wasn’t chained to the bed for a change (chain problems lately..lol) though I had my collar on of course. I lay there, thinking about my options for this not sleeping dilemma. It briefly entered my mind to just get up… to actually sneak out.. of the room. It flitted through my brain and I immediately discarded it. Well almost immediately. I examined it, because I found it rather fascinating that I *had* immediately dismissed that as an option. Wild horses could not have drug me out of that bed without getting His permission first. I have.. finally.. accepted His control. Internalized it.

I did consider waking Him and asking to be allowed to go do something. Anything. I so hate laying in the dark with nothing to do. And He probably would have let me, He can be mean but He’s not an Ogre. (Not always anyway…;)). Yet, I didn’t want to wake Him up. He’s been so incredibly stressed at work lately.. and not sleeping the best anyway.. I didn’t want to disturb Him. He was snoring so peacefully. And I know how He sleeps if I am not there with Him.. He’d be up checking on me and not getting rest at all…just so I could read a book or watch some mind numbing TV show to alleviate my own boredom. Still.. spoiled little slave girl almost won out… she fought hard. Boy howdy, I came very close to poking Him.

And then, just one simple thought… to myself.. “you are the slave.. and sometimes slaves suffer for Master’s comfort”… it wasn’t an epiphany. It wasn’t a lightbulb. It wasn’t even an “ahha!” moment. It was just… there… making sense.. comforting… and Right. Now, being bored isn’t exactly a huge sacrifice to make, I know this. But that thought did make laying there, quietly, waiting for morning or sleep a heck of a lot easier.

I think … before… before the Mother’s Day incident.. before Master starting *talking*.. and not just saying words to make noise..(You know what I mean, Sir)…. I would have woken Him up, with little second thought to it. I would have justified that my comfort is just as important as His. When the facts are, it isn’t. Or maybe it is… but is approached in a different light.

Anyway.. thinking things like that, while probably seeming like kindergarten stuff to others, is quite the big step for me. Accepting, without argument or reasons, believing in who and what I am, who and what He is… and letting it just be.. what it is going to be.

I’ve been looking for that knowledge for a long time. Thank You Master.

kaya

Taking it all for Granted.

I knew when I entered into this lifestyle the demands that would be made upon me, upon my body and my freedoms. In theory I ‘knew’ them. I had smiled and twitched when I imagined the scenarios of someone else controlling my daily life. Daydreams and fantasies. I swear, sometimes my own naivety embarrasses me.

I enjoy many of the aspects of this life, of course. Or else I wouldn’t be in it. But there are times… moments of the day when I wish I had a Get Out of Jail Free card and could lay it on the table in front of Master and proceed with whatever I was doing.

The other night I had just started my journal, some topic that I found fascinating, that would probably bore anyone else to tears. And when I have an idea in my head, I want to pursue it. Right Now if you don’t mind. Seems like such a small thing to ask for.

It was early that night. Only about 9:30pm. I mean, christ, we aren’t 80. That’s early! But Master pipes up and simply says “Go to bed.”. Now, had he wanted something… like sex..lol. A blowjob.. anything… But no. Nothing of that sort. He wasn’t even going to bed, just watching TV. I tell you, I was livid.

Now, I understand that I gave him that right.. and that it’s part of my submission. And I feel guilty even for getting angry. I bit my tongue.. and I went to bed with just a small amount of attitude. So I *did* submit. But none of that changes how f**king mad I was..lol.

And I told him so, as I lay fuming and staring at the wall. “Master, I’m mad at you.” He hugged me, told me he understood I was mad, was sorry (Sorry!) that I was mad but this is where he wanted me right then. Nuff said.

That’s not the first time that Master has wanted me to do something, when I want to do something else. Happens all the time. I’m not sure why that particular incident irritated me so. And of course, being the nutball that I am, I’m now questioning my commitment to being a slave. I mean, if a simple bedtime makes me see red? It’s easier to submit to the stuff I like. Can’t we just keep it at that??

The realities of giving up freedom are.. or can be.. overwhelming. Not just going to bed when you want, but everything. When I think back to my Pre-Master days and recall eating what and when I wanted, going where I wanted, buying what I wanted, using the computer whenever, going to the bathroom when I had to..lol. Or simpler yet… walking into another room if I wanted. Sitting where I wanted. Sleeping in whatever position I wanted. I can still breathe.. no wait… Master likes breathplay…lol.

The majority of the time, that lack of freedom, or the depth of his control is comforting. Too much space and it makes me nervous, jittery, I don’t know what to do with myself. I suppose I shouldn’t put so much emphasis on one little transgression on my part, desiring to be Miss Independence. And when the heck did choosing a bedtime become synonymous with independence. What has he done with my will?

I wonder if I can have coffee yet…

kaya

Relieved Disappointment

Last night, just before going to sleep, Master said he was going to put my head in the toilet and piss in my mouth first thing this morning. Piss play is something that I waver on. Sometimes it’s a huge turn on, other times it makes me get all ewww-y and icky. It’s best when I don’t know it’s coming and he just does it. Being warned hours beforehand, made for hours of wavering and talking myself into not wanting it. It was the first thing on my mind when I woke up, and I was dreading it. I had already started to feel nauseated. And then, when he got up and went straight to the bathroom without me, there was this huge wave of disappointment. Weird.

We’re checking into meeting with a local group here. There is a munch next weekend and if work and kids don’t interfere, I think we will go. Branching into the public with bdsm is something new for both of us. My worry is that the group will be nothing more than people looking for other people to screw (though I can’t say why I think that) and that’s not what we are looking for. I’m really excited about having some other real person to talk about bdsm things with. Message boards are good, but it’s hard sometimes to get your point across through type.

Oh. Heavy bondage again last night. I only woke up once when a chain link somehow grabbed a chunk of my arm and pinched the hell out of it. As hard as it is normally for me to get comfortable enough to sleep, it’s just amazing how a bedful of chains and cuffs and padlocks sends me off to dream-land. Can’t wait for that first time when I wake up and have to PeeRightNowPlease! and there is the hurried half-awake fumble in the dark for the right keys to the right locks and the would-you-please-turn-your-leg-that-way-slut and move-your-hair-dammit. Should be fun… :)
kaya

Hello World!

Today, I start a new journal. Again. I’ve started and stopped several over the last few months. Some were lost due to comp issues, some I deleted because I’m temperamental like that. But today… it’s a new beginning with a new journal (my first ever “public” journal) and I vow to write in it three times a week, as Master requested. I vow to try anyway.

Last night, I slept in bondage. For quite some time now I’ve slept with a collar locked to a chain locked to the headboard. The length of the chain has varied, from enough length to walk around the room to so short that I can’t sit up. I actually prefer it on the shorter side (hint hint Master) because the weight of the chain tends to pull on the collar. It was surprisingly easy to become comfortable sleeping with the collar and chain, so much so that I can’t get comfy without it now. It’s a reassuring weight, to me, in the middle of the night. And a bit of a mindfuck to have to beg to be unlocked for a midnight potty break. But anyway, back to the point.

Last night, I slept in bondage. Master chained my ankles to the footboard with the leather ankle cuffs, my hands were chained together with the leather wrist cuffs, attached to the headboard, along with the collar also chained to the headboard. Once the chains all warmed up, besides being noisy, it was really a very restful night. I’m not sure if I slept so well because I was exhausted, or because the chains were *that* comfortable. I guess we will find out next time. I do know that all day, remembering the clink of the chains, the brief flash of cold when I would roll on one, the few times I woke just enough to remember that “no, I can’t roll that way” or “no, I can’t bend my knees that high” was enough to keep me squirming and juicy. I’d like to experiment more with other types of sleeping bondage please Sir… :)
kaya