Service, True

Actually, I do apologize for my attitude yesterday. I have backed myself into a very unfortunate place lately. It almost makes me cry, but I won’t. I’ve done enough of that. Getting to work is more important at this point.

I’m about as far from everything that feels good and right in my life as is possible without completely being severed from it. Deep breath and focus. That’s where it starts.

In a panic last night, reached to a woman submissive from Fetlife. She’s local here and first wrote to me that she saw a status change on my profile and wondered if I was ok. She offered to talk, and I thought that it might help.

She was very sweet and caring. The kindness of strangers. I shared my story as quickly as I could and then got to my question. How do I renew this slaveheart that she spoke of? I have been so concerned with my wanting to be with Him, that it has eclipsed everything. And as such, everything has gone black.

Just listening to her speak about her protocol she does every day, her feeling of having her Master inside her every moment of every day, that she is a reflection of Him…I remembered. I felt it. I felt Him and why I fell in love with Him. I felt what it felt like to want more than anything else to serve Him. To put Him and His needs first.

Fears have hurt so much of what I had with Him. My fears of who He is and His intentions with me. My wanting so much that nothing but what I wanted was enough.

Service is in the heart. It flows from there and goes to where it’s needed. The heart just knows what to do and how to give. It becomes not longer just a thought but a feeling that becomes an action.

I need to go to work now, but this feels like a good way to start the day.

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Looking Back

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.

Balancing On A Tightrope of Surrender

I think back to when He just began speaking with me. He introduced me to what the D/s relationship was and then spoke something to me that was haunting. He said, “say goodbye to any balance”.

What He meant was that I would no longer be able to feel in control of anything any longer. That is very true. Even when He says He is no longer controlling me, I still feel the pull. It’s as if my entire being is so tied to Him that I can’t NOT be controlled by Him.

His silence is control, His words that I’m not His, His cutting statements when He’s angry; just as much as His having me wear something, or telling me who and how to fuck, or where to eat my food.

I am not balanced. My life constantly feels as if I’m walking a tightrope. For a moment things are beautiful and I am filled with hope and this amazing vision of a place and time He shared with me. I can smell Him and see Him right in front of me. I dance sometimes and imagine Him there.

I crawl up to Him and lift myself on His knees. Then throw my leg over His to straddle Him. I sway my hips and ass over Him until I lower my pussy down to stroke His cock over His pants. My arms around His neck, I’m kissing His neck and slowly slide my soft lips up to His ear. My hot breath panting while I gasp as I grind my dripping aching mound up and down His cock.

I feel that so intensely that I forgot anything else I wanted to say. Makes me realize He’s right. “When its real, when its genuine, when its giving, when its service, your body makes it real & takes over…when its anything other than that…you know the result”.

And I do know the result. I felt it that night. I wasn’t even wet. It wasn’t about fucking anyone. Not for me or Him. My body wasn’t engaged, my mind was and it was in full control. So much so that I felt as if I woke from a dream after. Why did I do that, I thought.

His words, to “have fun” as I left, hurt. They always do. They mean He is no longer controlling me, that He’s not with me, that I’m on my own. I felt angry and upset and hurt….and responsible for all of it–because a good and real submissive would never go. She wouldn’t be able to live without His control. She wouldn’t want to. My real anger is with myself. My real hurt is from me. I’m so disappointed in myself for even seeking balance.

My faith in Him, my joy in giving to Him, my need to serve Him will result in all the balance, all the strength, all the love I could ever want. Because He will have to give it as much as I do. He will feel compelled to give what is needed and wanted because of my total surrender. And in that surrender, the truth is, I’ll no longer want. I’ll no longer feel the lack of anything. Not between us.

Feeling my body turned on with Him is that feeling incarnate. It is literally the living breathing feeling of total surrender. It is the only way to be His…anything.

I’ve lived my life for years in a different way. I went as far away from it as I could get. Yes, He was my biggest reason for coming to Arizona, but it was also in search of a new me. A life like one I’ve never before experienced. One of total surrender.

That tightrope has great meaning. It will always feel that way with Him. The feeling of fear is a constant reminder to surrender. For in surrender there is letting go, and to let go there must be faith in who He is; that He will be there to make sure I don’t fall. It is giving my whole life to Him in a way I never have with anyone before.

Even in not feeling sure if He will choose to be with me any longer, I still feel the need to surrender. I suppose if He decides He doesn’t, He will tell me. But until then, I must. The pain I feel is simply my struggling against this inner knowing. It’s all right there…when I surrender.

P.S. I may be an Aries, but my moon is a Libra. I just searched for tightrope walker and literally found this image about Librans. No wonder this is the lesson of my entire life. It’s the deepest part of my heart. My greatest fear and my truest deepest need. Amazing.

Forgiveness

Haven’t written anything lately because to be honest I’m in a daze. I’m breathing but there’s just this feeling of being not really there. Going through the motions you might say.

I reach out to Him, but I don’t know what to say or do. I don’t think I’ve every felt so strange and silent. I think about Him all the time; how He’s feeling and what I’ve done.

He said He forgives me, I don’t forgive me. I can’t. Maybe I will when I finally do something different. When this dark side of mine and me finally become allies rather than enemies. Maybe that’s part of the stillness in me now. It’s like I’ve stopped struggling. Just stopped everything. And the silence is fucking deafening.

I love this man. To hear Him say He forgives me, He’s more of a man than any man I’ve ever known. And with those words and the love He gave in saying them, despite His own pain, I feel an obligation and commitment to listen. Listen really hard. Where is this taking me? What is this moment showing me? What is life asking me to rise up to? How can I be better for Him? For myself, so that myself becomes whole enough to live up to a man like He is. Even in loss and devastation there are seeds of hope and gifts to appreciate.

I’ll sleep inside that tonight.

Halloween

Had a dream last night that I was in some sort of dire situation. My only option was to put this thin film (like those breath mints) on my tongue to kill myself. If I feel asleep, I’d never wake again.

I’m guessing that being under stress has caused that kind of dream. Oh, I’d never really kill myself. It’s impossible for my stupid ego and also the other side of me just figures that’s too easy of a way out. Part being an Aries and part being some sort of a masochist out of guilt for who I really am.

That dream, by the way, was had while sleeping next to my roommate. I crawled into bed with him last night while he was sleeping. He said nothing to me, just held my hand and went back to sleep. It was one of the best night’s sleep I’ve had in a long time. Maybe just like the way putting a stable dog together with an unstable dog helps to calm and center the unstable one, roommates presence calmed me.

It’s been an amazing and then awful couple of days. I was feeling pretty unstable the night before Halloween, just perhaps misunderstandings with Him. Perhaps some feelings left unexpressed, but I pulled together and did what I hoped would heal everything.

I dressed as Harley Quinn for Him. Took me a couple weeks to get the outfit together. Did it all homemade with different pieces. Goodwill had a small boys T-shirt that I cut up, spray painted and used marker on to write, “Daddy’s lil Monster”. Just writing about the love and feelings behind that brings back all the good in me that I love to share with Him.

I took pix of myself to send Him, but to be honest, I was stuck in some feelings. When He responded so excited and turned on, I let that go. However, i felt this tingling inside. I should have said, “acting like Harley is making me feel my anger and resentment and it needs to cum out in a respectful hot way…can you help me please”?

Instead, I asked if I could go out. Roomie was pushing so hard for it. His girlfriend wanted it and at first I said no. I felt the need to stay there with Him, then the pressure from roomie and almost me snapping at him…I finally said I’d go. I’m always saying no to everyone. To invites to go out all the time. My stupidity I guess, but I’ve been feeling very reclusive for a while now.

When I got to the restaurant in my Harley costume, I could feel something off. I already couldn’t find a way to text Him. I sat and spoke to roomie, his girlfriend and his girlfriend’s friend. She was a young woman recently blinded by a laser. She was incredibly smart and adorable in a very butch way: tattoos and biker jacket and shaved head except for a small sheath of hair swept to the back.

It happened so quickly. One minute I was trying to send a text to Him in the bathroom, that wouldn’t send (just the usual when things feel fucked up inside me); the next, I was walking back to the house with all of them, the blind woman holding my hand. Oh boy.

I won’t go into any detail of what happened, as it would just be more disrespect to Him. I’ll only say the whole thing for me was off. I felt distant and got no pleasure from it. I gave pleasure to her as almost a knee jerk reaction of guilt and self loathing.

The next morning, the repercussions of what I feared hit. He was yelling at me. Cursing at me. So hurt by my lack of respect and loving actions. Not much more to say at this point. Maybe He’s right, that’s genuinely me; a resentful cunt that can’t love anyone.

Today is the last day of Dia de los Muertos. Every time I write that I can hear Him saying it for me. He said it for me because I love His voice, because He gnew it would make me crazy and want to just melt for Him. He said it to bring closer the dream of being His wife. My ability to destroy things is quite amazing. Regret is a prison all it’s own.

His Magickal Cum

I’m not alone in feeling that cum has intense energy in it and, perhaps, yes…magick. Aleister Crowley to certain religions to indigenous cultures celebrate the hot sticky liquid. And I certainly do!

I celebrate it and I worship it and I crave it and love it so much. His cum for me holds a special power and a deep desire that words can’t do justice.

Earlier today, I had been texting with Him. He suddenly said to show Him my tits. It’s those moments I feel so connected to Him and to being His submissive; my body and mind just obey. And obey with pure desire to be and do what He requires. Lifting his tank top, (the one He sent me that I wear every night for bed) my nipples tingled and my body turned on.

This time He sent a video of Him; naked except for a black robe. I could see His hand stroking His cock underneath the fabric, but on one video, He lifted the robe slowly to expose His balls and most of His cock.

I just froze for a few seconds and made sure I was seeing what I was. He has never shown me all of Himself. Keeping me in suspense and drooling and craving over Him has been part of this journey with Him. He is a Master at torturing me in this way.

I watched as His hand slid up His balls and exposed more and more of His cock and I had to cum. I could feel the skin, taste it and smell it. I shivered as my pussy came hard for Him.

He sent more videos of him stroking Himself, cum dripping all over His hand. I watched his fingers and how He grabbed His cock and slid up and down. It made my pussy so hot and wet and I just wanted to lick every drop.

Then one more video came through. He had my black coke whore dress (a dress I had fucked and sucked many in and showed Him and did lots of coke in; sent to Him probably two years ago) wrapped around His cock. He asked if I’d like to see Him cum on my dress and with that I could see His hot wet cum exploding on the fabric. I could feel His body shake and convulse, and His voice soften and pant.

I have longed to hear and see Him cumming for so long. I’ve watched the video probably close to 100 times already, and I came hard right after He sent it to me. My body feeling what He was doing to His cock so I could see His cum.

It’s getting my pussy all hot again describing it. That one moment, seeing His cum for the first time gave me such a feeling of hope. Of desire for Him. Of even more love and respect. I just want to take care of His needs and body and spirit and heart over and over and over forever.

Cumming For Him

I keep many of the things He has said to me. I copy them from our messaging and keep them in emails I send to myself. Lately, just to keep something closer, I copy and paste to reminders. I can just click on something amazing He says to me and He’s there. It’s like I can feel Him in His words.

When He leaves me voice messages I listen over and over and close my eyes and imagine Him behind me, whispering those things in my ear; His hot breath on my neck. His lips tracing the length of my neck and nuzzling into my hair, pulling my body into His. Feeling Him. Really feeling Him.

I can for a moment. For a moment we’re together and nothing is holding us apart. And I feel safe and warm and loved and He is so happy because He feels the same way. And we’re two people who want to be together. To respect each other and give to each other. Who hold each other’s fantasies and enjoy them. No shame, only freedom and exploring. Exploring each other’s bodies and minds and hearts.

We’d know that what took us that long to become and finally be together was worth everything to cherish. We’d feel our pasts and know they were there to bring us here. That everything was worth going through to be here…in each other’s arms and life…and bed.

Oh god, how I imagine just hours. Hours of touching Him and smelling Him. I imagine pleasuring His body and just giving Him mine.

The other night, we were just texting. Slowly the heat between us rose. I was pretty lit from drinking, like I get almost every night lately, the day had been just casual conversation. When it goes there, I sink slightly. It’s not a bad feeling just one that is a little nervous. There’s always something in me that starts feeling myself grasping and almost ripping at my skin needing His dark side. The side of Him that needs to rip me apart.

So when He sent a voice message instead of texting, I felt my whole body buzz and shake. Wet, so wet and aching for Him. I listened to each new voice mail and stroked my cunt and played with one nipple. His voice has such command over my body it’s hard to explain.

I came so hard I lost consciousness for a bit. Just convulsing and coming over and over, so much it turned to tears. Just sobbing from the release inside me. Of knowing that it’s Him. That I do submit to Him. That even a thousand miles away and I’m His. Cumming and aching for Him.