You know, I was just about to start apologizing for not writing extremely hot things on here the last few posts. Apologize to the reading public. Now I’m going to say something that I never have before. I don’t give a fuck. I. Don’t. Give. One. Fuck what anyone thinks of what I write here.
This is for my head and heart. If it helps you, excites you, gives you insight, or even fills that voyeuristic side, then…enjoy. But, it is simply written for my need to let things out. And yes…I’m a fucking attention whore who also happens to be an exhibitionist.
I do, however, give a million fucks about what He thinks of what I write here. No matter what is going on, I don’t ever not feel that. About everything.
This morning, He surprised me with a good morning text. Things have been pretty tense. It scares me when things are like that between us. I worry myself to near death. And then I wrote about surrendering. That helped a lot. It reminded me and grounded me. To surrender to Him has this calming effect on me that’s hard to describe. Even harder for me to understand.
This morning was also another message that surprised me. It was to put on a red tube top and red panties and serve Him His coffee that way, making sure to get my nipples nice and hard for Him. I felt in slow motion. I dried my hair put on make up and did as told.
It surprised me still how my body responded in the way it always does to Him: wet, panting, hard nipples, and this almost out of body feeling. That’s the feeling of being controlled by Him, isn’t it, though.
He mentioned yesterday that I should read back this blog. Review is important. It’s a way to hear my thoughts in a different way. Very objectively, in a way. A way to hopefully learn, too.
There are a remarkable amount of memories on here, but some I didn’t write about. A lot really. I remember one night, He shared with me that He would collar me. It’s been an obsession of mine for so long now, it feels almost abstract.
He shared probably a dozen collars. I looked at each one and was so overwhelmed and excited. The dream of truly being His. He even sent a photo of a D/s contract. I almost passed out, when I saw it. So much I didn’t really think He did or would ever even mention to me, and there it was.
There was a time He asked me for a safe word. I told Him what it was, and remembered feeling this soft tingle of fear run up between my legs. The idea of having a word that would have the power to stop, but knowing that ultimately I never would. I look at this journey, and realize that in as much pain as I have been through, I could have given up a thousand times already. In essence “using a safe word” from a distance; but I never have. Never was able to. It’s literally not in me to give up on Him or on us.
Another night, He showed me a glimpse of my darkest, sweetest dream of my life: a life with Him as His wife, His submissive slut wife. Collared and leashed and walking…excuse me…crawling down an isle to Him all decorated and celebrated in Dia De Los Muertos theme. I cried when He shared that. Nothing has ever gone that deep.
Reading back on this blog does help crystallize things for me, though. In all I write, I still feel like I’m living a surreal life. Maybe that’s a bit of not being grounded enough. Especially lately. Some emotional distance between us has caused that. What I did, tore us both up pretty badly. How much it affected Him, was a harsh and very painful reality to experience.
I’m still feeling strangely. I know I feel best when I’m offering my body to Him. Everything stops and I just let that feeling flow out to Him.
I guess I’ll go back to sleep now. I went to bed early and yet woke at around midnight. Restless. And always hoping to be better for Him.