Limitless Possibilities

i don't know how to start writing again, but i know i need too... it's been a long difficult four months since my last post... i was *just* getting to the point in therapy where i was actually doing okay... starting to deal with my recovered memories of sexual abuse.... starting to deal with my spontaneous regression issues... coming to peace with my own hurt and distrustful five-year-old self...

And then, in the end of July, after two days of intense stomach pain, i ended up in the emergency room. i stayed overnight while they loaded me up with *really* good drugs and did ultrasounds and cat scans. Turns out i had an umbilical hernia. Not life threatening, but definitely life impairing.... They sent me home to a week of bed rest... orders not to exert myself until it was fixed... and a promise of a far distant surgery date...

Life just seemed to stop. i went into waiting/survival mode. All of my energy and focus went toward my physical issues and limitations and on keeping myself from going stir crazy and on getting through each day... i stopped dealing with my abuse issues... i very neatly packaged all of the "hard" stuff up and shoved it away... i've been careful not to expose myself to anything that could reopen that can of worms... i've stopped talking to most of my friends... i haven't called my sister in ages... i'm terrified of hanging out with my niece... she's six, so close to the age i was when i was abused... seeing anything that young and vulnerable just makes me want to cry... children undermine my belief in any kind of god or higher power.... how could "god" put something as delicate and vulnerable as a child in a world like this?

Okay, i'm getting off track... the point is that i stopped going to therapy and stopped working on my emotional recovery...

It's been a month and a half... and miracle of miracles, they actually got me in for my surgery in record time... it was last Friday (sept. 12)... within 2 days i was up and around... i'm still a bit tender and have to take it easy for the next few weeks... but then i'm done... good as new... back to life as it should be... no more excuses....

And i'm suddenly terrified... i want nothing more than to just *be* normal and healthy again, but what does that even *mean*? Does it mean going back to the way i was before the hernia... back to dealing with my abuse issues? i don't know how to do that... or does it mean, going back to how things were *before* the memories started to surface... i don't think i *can* do that...

The sad part is that the few special people that are in my life are all convinced that i'm "doing great"... i'm such a pro at "survival mode" that even the people who love me and care about me the most can't see through it. They're proud and happy about my recovery... about the way i've handled myself and how i've dealt with everything. They've pretty much come to the conclusion that i'm "all better" and that my two personalities have "integrated"... and that i'm now "in control" of my emotional self... and that i've come to terms with my recovered memories...

But the truth is i *haven't* handled all of the memories or the emotions around them... my five-year-old personality isn't integrated, she's gone back into hiding... she leaks out occasionally... her playfulness... her sadness... her anger... but i don't *feel* her anymore... she's stopped sharing her memories with me... and i feel a deep loss and sadness without her here. i want desperately to *be* her again... i can't believe i'm saying that after how hard i fought to get rid of her and stifle her when she first surfaced... but i miss her terribly...

The people i love and care about are sooo happy to have *me* back to being *me*... they didn't know how to handle "her" or deal with "her" issues... it seems so much simpler to just leave "her" in hiding... but i can't. i want her back.

i am my skin... stretched thin and too tight..
the world presses in against it, against me until i can barely breath...
my skin is like tissue, thin, fragile, delicate...

too thin to protect me from the world...

and too thin to contain all the hate and anger inside...
i feel it clawing at me trying to get out...
it rises like bile in my throat, making me ill, choking me...

and then, unable to stop it...
the hatred and anger spills out onto everything i care about...
everyone i love.


.

My five-year-old doesn't care about my diet, exercise, or the 60 pounds i lost last year...
She doesn't care about eating her veggies or maintaining her weight.

My five-year-old wants German chocolate cake for breakfast...
She likes fried chicken, pizza, and English muffins with butter AND strawberry jam.

My five-year-old is impossible to go grocery shopping with.

My five-year-old doesn't want to take out the trash, do the laundry or clean the dishes...
She wants to eat and sleep and play, but mostly, she wants to curl up and cry.
She likes her soft blanket...
She wishes someone would read her bedtime stories.

My five-year-old hates showers...
She takes baths...
With lots of bubbles to hide her...
She has to have the shower curtain and bathroom door open...
So she can hear and see if anyone comes near.

My five-year-old likes small dark places...
Where she can hide and no one will find her...
The bottom of the closet is safe.

My five-year-old knows that if they don't see you...
They may forget about you...
Find someone else to hurt.

My five-year-old is not silly, or goofy or innocent like most five-year-olds...
She's closed-off, quiet, petulant and over-sensitive.
My five-year-old is angry most of the time.

My five-year-old cries a lot...
She won't look people in the eye...
Sometimes, i can make her grin or laugh for a moment,
But the deep sadness remains...
i can't ease her pain or make the hurt go away.

My five-year-old doesn't trust people...
She doesn't like strangers or crowds...
She's clingy and needy and misses her adults when they aren't with her...

My five-year-old has nightmares...
She doesn't sleep well...
She sees his face...
Hears his laughter...
Smells the liquor and tobacco on his breath...

She looks down at her naked body....
and feels shame.

My five-year-old is broken...
i don't know how to help her...

So for right now, i give in to what she wants...
i let her have chocolate cake for breakfast....
English muffins with butter AND strawberry jam...
A soft blanky around her...
and i try not to make her do the things she doesn't want to do...

Hoping that maybe one day....

She'll smile again.

Jan. 6, 2008....

My wrists bound tightly with rope, my arms wrapped around her protectively, her head on my shoulder, her hands tied above her, the flogger falling in hard rhythmic strokes against my back... a sudden and amazing connection... with her... but not her... through her back to myself... i was holding and protecting her and the flogging pushed me deeper down and she became me... and i was holding and protecting myself... this small lost frightened part of myself that at some point had desperately *needed* to be held and protected.... the connection surprised me... and i pushed a little deeper... and i was my own mother... protecting, sheltering, holding myself.... and i was that small scared child in her arms... no longer afraid... no longer angry at her for not protecting me... but now *willingly* protecting her... holding her... giving her the strength that she had never found....

i gave myself a few minutes to be in that space completely, feeling the strong connection with myself... with the memories of my mother... and with the long lost hurt parts.... i knew that i had uncovered something old... and deep... and painful that needed to heal... but i wasn't ready to deal with it in that moment... the flogging continued... not that hard, but hard enough... and i pulled myself up out of that place and back to where i needed to be.... not forgetting the place i had found... but making a conscious decision to go back and explore it more at some other time.... but for now, i wanted to be *here*... present and connected to L and D... i silently wiped the tears from my eyes in D's hair... glad that neither D or L had seen them and once again felt the connection and love between them... and basked in their ability to share that connection and love with me.... and the flogging and connection between the three of us continued... and i was happy... and the connection i had felt within myself, with myself got silently filed away.

Today i'm giving myself time to dig into that space deeper... to cry and grieve for that part of me that needed to be protected by my mom.... needed for her to step between me and the men that beat her and her children.... and i'm finding forgiveness and understanding.... she did the best that she *thought* she could do... she *wasn't* strong enough to stand up for herself... to live her own life... to make her own choices... or to protect us or even herself... but it didn't mean that she didn't love us... or that she didn't care... she was simply a scared child paralyzed by her own doubts, fears and insecurities.... and i'm filled with gratitude... somehow or other, the universe has given me the things that my mother never had... i am strong... i am secure... and most importantly i have the self awareness to make my *own* decisions and choices, instead of being carried through life with out any direction.

This.... THIS.... is a *huge* part of what calls me to bdsm... the connection... the ability to reach deep down within ourselves past all of the surface stuff and find the long lost hurt parts... pull them up to the surface so they can be examined and understood....

.... with understanding comes forgiveness.... and once you can forgive, the healing can finally begin....

yesterday i uncovered an old wound....
today, after all of the tears, it will finally have a chance to heal.


Thank you D and L... for taking this journey with me...
Thank you K for supporting my journey and always being there to listen... and
Thank you R for trusting me enough to take these journeys with other people.

.

He holds me close for a second, then pulls away slightly forcing me to make eye contact with Him… His lips curl into a smile and inner laughter sparkles in His eyes.

“How could you NOT know that I think you’re beautiful?!?!”, He asks as though i was dumb enough to question the shape of the Earth, the color of the sky or anything else that is so obviously beyond question or doubt.

“’Cause You never TOLD me that.” i stammer out, feeling suddenly sheepish and silly for ever having doubted it and for needing to hear it.

He laughs, “It’s not relevant.”

With that He forcefully pushes me back onto the bed and goes about the simple and comforting task of locking the shackles around my wrists and ankles…

Sigh… it really isn’t relevant… but it’s nice to know.

Yup, as i mentioned two posts back, i broke *that* rule again....


And, to make matters worse, it's been 4 days since my punishment and i *still* haven't written about it... which is completely unacceptable... if i don't get some kind of post up here by the end of today i'm going to be in *serious* trouble... i have been warned.

The truth of the matter is that i'm having a really hard time figuring out what to say... i posted a "pre-punishment" explanation the day before i received the actual punishment and that pretty much covered the how and why of it all...

http://teasybratt.livejournal.com/2007/09/16/

and the simple fact of the matter is that i just haven't been able to sit up at the computer and do much writing this week. i threw my back out on Wednesday and it's been hurting ever since. Which really sucks... i have several posts floating around in my head and i just can't seem to focus in on any of them... much less this one. But no excuses... it needs to be done... or else. Yay for vicodin.

With that in mind, please forgive the scrambled and somewhat disjointed nature of this post. ;^)

So... the punishment.

What can i say... He did *not* go easy on me this time. it hurt. a lot. Way more than last time.

And i loved it.

Oh, not the actual bastinado part... that part sucks... but the the harshness of the punishment, the reassurance and safety of having someone not only make but enforce rules, the cathartic feeling of being physically pushed to tears... and the comfort and reconnection of being forgiven and comforted afterwards... what's not to love??? Almost makes me want to run out and break some more rules. More please. ;^)


After my last little episode of having my feet cropped because i had masturbated without doing my exercise for the day, i swore up and down that i had "learned my lesson" and that i was *not* going to have to worry about that again.... that was *exactly* one month ago. i guess the 17th of the month is just a good day for a "friendly" reminder of how things work in my world.

Maybe i did "learn my lesson"... after all, there are several ways in which this infraction was completely different from the last one... both times i *deliberately* broke the rule... the first time was with "honest" motives at least. i didn't have any idea what the consequences would be, and i broke it for no other reason than sheer laziness.

This time was *much* worse in my opinion... i broke the rule out of spite and because part of me *wanted* the pain and humiliation of being punished. i wasn't even all that horny... i was just mad... i *knew* the consequences and simply didn't care... i don't know if any amount of consequences would have stopped me... certainly not any consequence that involved pain or humiliation. Because honestly, when i'm that angry and upset (AND craving physical punishment), i don't stop to think about rational things like the consequences of my actions, well, that isn't entirely true, i *do* think of them, but in this case, the "consequences" are part of what helped fuel my decision to misbehave.


Maybe the problem is that my last punishment taught me the *wrong* lessons.

Let's look at one basic fact:

i'm a masochist. (wow, caught you all of guard with that one, didn't i?)

Now, let's take a look at what i learned from breaking the "no cumming without exercising rule" one month ago:

1. i learned that the consequences will be *horribly* painful but not unmanageable.

2. i learned that no matter *what* my excuse is, my Master will enforce the rules.

3. i learned that although He will be disappointed in me, for breaking this rule, He won't be *really* angry.

4. i learned that i *like* the pain and humiliation of being punished... a lot.

5. i learned that there are very few things that makes me feel as safe, secure, or as loved as being punished.

6. i learned that this rule is a "safe" one to break when i'm craving punishment and "negative" attention.


i'm fairly certain those are *not* the lessons that my Master was trying to teach me. After all, how will *any* of those things keep me from being disobedient in the future? Especially if the "consequences" of my action continue to reinforce ALL of the above lessons and feed my masochistic needs?

Even with as remorseful and embarrassed as i felt for the way i behaved this past weekend, the truth of the matter is that i *didn't* feel bad about *what* i did... i felt horrible for *why* i did it. The anger, the petulance, the insecurities, the *need* to be punished... the "action" was simply a by product of my negative emotions.

And therein lies the problem. i *felt* as though i should be punished for my motives, but since my main motives in this case were negative emotions and insecurities, and since i am *not* in control of my emotions, how can i be punished for something that is outside of my control? (This is not an excuse, i am *still* responsible for my actions, even when i am NOT in control of my emotions - and my actions ARE exactly what i *was* punished for.)

Discipline is define as the ability to behave in a controlled and calm way even in a difficult or stressful situation.

i am *not* emotionally disciplined.


So... i look back at the events of this past weekend... and i'm left with the knowledge that no matter how bad i felt about disappointing my Master, it *will* happen again...

The consequences for breaking this rule are *usually* enough motivation to keep me in line. But not always...

i don't think i will ever break this rule out of sheer laziness again... but i also know that this is a "safe" rule to break when i am feeling angry or petulant and *need* to act out. Admitting that it is "safe" for me to break it because Master won't be *too* upset with me and the consequences won't be *too* horrid is a fact that i not only have to face, but one that i feel obligated to point out.

Maybe that's not a bad thing... maybe i *need* rules like this that can be broken... just like i *need* to be punished from time to time...

But that isn't up to me. That is His decision completely. But in order for Him to make an informed decision, i have to be completely honest about my end of things. Because IF this is a rule that He really DOES want to enforce *absolutely* than He may need to find another method of punishing me for breaking it.


Update: my Master and i have discussed this issue.... and agreed that physical punishment is obviously *not* the right way of dealing with my disobedience... in the future He will enforce the rules with punishments that do NOT satisfy my masochistic nature... ugh.... writing lines. tedious. boring.... effective.

(yes, i got my punishment yesterday... and yes, i need to do a post on that at some point... but not right now... i'm still too caught up in the happiness and exuberance of yesterdays session to write about my punishment - maybe later.)


******

Have i ever mentioned that i'm an insecure and nuerotic little doofus? No? Well, now you know. i go through this world, pretending like i'm the queen of self-assurance and the poster child for good self-esteem. Strong, independent, secure... but it's all a farce. i'm a big ole' poser. Maybe insecurities is the wrong word... i'm extremely secure about how *i* feel about myself... i just run into problems when i start to worry about what *other* people think of me.

Which usually isn't a problem... in general, i don't give a bunny's left testicle about what "society" or "most people" think of me... not that i go out of my way to be offensive or objectionable... i do my best to be polite and kind (most of the time ;) ), and leave it at that... people either like me or they don't and i really don't see any need to stress myself out over "their" opinions.

After all, my father always taught me that i should *never* ever ever rely or depend on anyone or anything... the only person in this world that i could really depend on was myself... he not only preached it, but demonstrated it time and time again.

So if i can't rely or depend on people why would their opinions matter?


He did a pretty good job driving home his point... and raising a strong (scared), independent (emotionally unavailable), secure (distrustful) woman. i've gone through most of my life not *really* ever caring what anyone else thought because the only person who really mattered in the long run was me. After all, as my father so clearly and "kindly" pointed out *everyone* else was going to either hurt me or disappoint me at some point so i was better off not depending on them in the first place.


But that is a lonely, miserable, pathetic, fear-based way to live.


And despite the risk of being hurt... i couldn't live my life that way...


But i still haven't forgotten the lessons he taught... so for the most part, i play it safe. i fell in love with my partner because she is the *one* person that i had met in my life that made me feel *completely* and utterly safe. Not just for fleeting moments, but ALL the time... she is a rock... steady... solid... grounded... and unchanging. And i felt it almost from the very beginning. Maybe it's because my father only hard wired me to never be dependent on men, i don't know, but with K i felt a safety and acceptance that i had never experienced before...Deep down in my soul, i know that she *needs* me and completely accepts me for who i am. That *need* is part of what makes me feel secure. Because she needs me, ,i know that she will *always* be there for me and that i CAN depend on her completely. In her, i have found the one thing that i never thought existed in this world... someone i can fully trust and depend on.

That may seem extremely unromantic to some people... after all, we don't really have a physical relationship... there are no huge sparks or fireworks, no passion, no toe-tingling, knee-weakening, heart palpitations... but none of that matters with us. What we do have is 10 years... Ten years, and we still miss each other *every* minute that we are apart. Ten years and we still talk about and share *every* little part of our lives. Ten years and we still want to spend every moment we can together. Ten years, and she *still* tells me she loves me a dozen or so times a day... still tells me i'm beautiful, even when i'm grungy and unshaven with no make up on... and i *believe* her down to the core of my being... because that's the beauty that she sees when she looks at me... it's the beauty that we see reflected in each other's eyes.

i am beautiful because SHE says i am...


And i have *no* insecurities about THAT.


Although...... i do think she has a slightly warped vision of me.... ;^)


*****

huh... this post took a *completely* different direction than i had intended... funny how that happens...

i've been feeling completely out of control lately... and when i get like that i crave pain and domination... not just the touchy feely SSC, "i'm a masochist and gee i kind of like that" kind of pain and domination... but the cruel, cold, hard, unfeeling type of pain that i tend to only associate with being "punished". i want to *hurt* and HATE every minute of it. i want to struggle against locks and chains with no way of escaping... i want to scream and cry out in futile rage.... until i'm reduced to nothing but my submission, with no resistance or doubt left inside of me... i want to KNOW without a doubt that HE is in control... and that He can and will do what needs to be done... and that He can and will protect me from myself.

And THAT need for punishment and dominance makes me do completely and utterly *stupid* things.

As i've said before... i don't have many rules... (a few more now than i did at my last post)... and my rules are fairly easy to abide by... but one of the rules that He stands firm on is NO orgasms unless i've done my exercise for the day... didn't care... wanted my orgasm... wanted some way to quiet the noise in my brain so that i could fall asleep... and maybe just maybe... i wanted the consequences....

i've *read* about other masochists doing this... a subconscious or conscious effort to force their Masters/Doms into doing what they wanted them to do, give them the pain and humiliation *they* may not want but that they need... and while reading about it i fully understood why it was wrong and why it was unethical and not something a "good little submissive" should be doing and i was even arrogant enough to think that i was above such actions... Arrogance has a way of biting you in the butt sometimes. And not just fun little love nips...

To be quite honest at the time, i really didn't give much thought to WHY i was purposely and knowingly choosing to break a rule. Did i have an intense need for pain and an overwhelming desire for Him to reassert His dominance... well yes... duh. i was floundering and going through endorphin withdrawal... i can't even begin to describe how out of kilter and off balance those two things make me feel. It's like the negative and irrational thoughts in my brain are overactive organisms in a petri dish and they just keep spewing forth with a life of their own... forcing their way out of every orifice and down my throat until i feel like i'm suffocating and infecting everything around me.

i don't *like* the way i've been behaving... i feel guilty and ashamed of being so out of control and for taking it out on Him. Honestly He didn't *do* anything... He was sick and had business to deal with and had to miss one of our days together (which meant two whole weeks of not getting to see Him)... and He got a bit too busy to keep in contact with me via email for a few days... Certainly nothing to cause me to have a monumental melt down of doubt and insecurity. So, mostly, i was just mad at myself for needing so much more contact and control than He is able to give. But because of our circumstances and the two weeks apart, He hasn't been able to do much to reign me in and get me back under control... so i've been bouncing around like a pinball and banging into all kinds of obstacles and inner resistance and blaming HIM for it.

The only thing i know of that re-centers me and makes me feel secure again when i get like this is pain and domination... and i'm not getting either of those things right now... but the animalistic, masochistic, id or whatever it is that controls such things WANTS it NOW. And that part of me will find a way to get the type of pain and punishment that it needs in order to keep *me* under control... and if that part of me has to be manipulative to do it than i guess that's just the way things are.

SO there i was, feeling extremely petulant, out of control and unsubmissive, with no one to keep me grounded and to make matters worse i was over tired and *couldn't* get to sleep... i'd been too busy that day to get my exercise in, so my "normal" cure for insomnia was out of the question... but with my brain going a million miles a minute, and blaming Him for "making" me feel this way, suddenly i just didn't care at all whether what i was doing was breaking any rules or not. i *knew* i was breaking a rule... but i simply didn't care. i was mad and not getting what i thought i needed so i did what *i* wanted and reached for my vibrator.

i had no illusions about NOT telling Him, or NOT being punished... i wouldn't dream of giving Him anything less than my full honesty... even the ugly nasty bits like the fact that i'm fairly certain (in retrospect) that part of my reason for breaking this rule was purely manipulative - i wanted to push Him... test Him.... MAKE Him react. Even as i was breaking the rule part of me knew that no matter WHAT my reason was, He simply wouldn't and couldn't accept any excuse. He has to do His part, and His part is making the rules AND enforcing them.

That's even what i was thinking about while i was masturbating my way into trouble... Him... cold, hard, severe, detached... giving me more pain than i could handle... beating me into submission - making me break down and scream and cry... and using me hard and brutally with total and utter disregard for my feelings and emotions... until all my inner rage was just purged out in pain and tears, and i was nothing but a sobbing, wet rag of submissiveness again. His submissive.

It is not and was not intentional or even consciously thought out... i just don't know how else to *do* this... how else to get what i *need*. i'm not just submissive... i'm a masochist... and part of being a masochist is sometimes *needing* something that i *don't* want and that i *won't* enjoy on ANY level. But that doesn't stop me from needing it... or doing whatever i can to get it.

And now... we are back in contact... regular emails.... i'm feeling less frantic... less out of control... and i'm full of regret... i'm feeling ashamed of my actions, not just breaking the rule, that's the least of it... i've been a complete shrew... sarcastic, snippy, insensitive, needy... why on earth does this Man even bother with me... He'll be here tomorrow... and i know i have a horrible punishment coming... and i deserve it for so many more reasons than just the stupid rule i broke... i *want* that punishment... i NEED it not just to sate my need for pain and domination... i need it to purge out all of my own guilt and shame... at this point i can't even stand the thought of having to look Him in the eye... not with the way i've been acting. i just want it to be all over with and better now... can i have a fast forward button please?

Hello All!

i know, it's been ages and ages since i made a post to my journal. i have been writing a lot, but most of that is in the form of emails back and forth to my Dom.

Not sure why i stopped posting to my journal... but i do know why i'm posting now...

Because my Dom is making me. lol

He told me long time ago that He would make me write about any punishments that i received, but luckily, i'm a fairly well behaved little slut so i haven't had to worry about that in a long time.

Okay, i'm not *that* well behaved, the truth of the matter is that it's really *hard* for me to get into trouble. i only see my Dom once per week, so i'm always eager to please Him during the short time that we get to spend together, He doesn't really push me that hard so there aren't really any orders that i balk at, and between sessions i don't really have that many rules and the few i have are fairly easy to adhere to (well except the cussing one, but i am getting *much* better about that - and at least He's not around to hear me... besides that rule only applies to my conversations with Him, right? right?) So, for the most part it's *easy* for me to stay out of trouble... usually... well, until last week.

i only have *one* rule (besides watching my language) that is sometimes difficult for me... and it's a rule that i *begged* for. Me. i asked for it! And since He is such a caring and generous Dom, He gave me the rule that *i* asked for.

Several months ago i started using my treadmill for an hour each day... i've *never* liked exercising, who does?? (if you're one of those weird people who enjoys exercising, feel my hate ;^) jk ) Sooo... i *really* wanted to keep at my healthy new habit, but i was having such a hard time motivating myself... and my Dom *knows* that my weight is a hot topic for me and one that pushes all kinds of insecurity buttons, so He refused to *make* me exercise every day... but i was persistent... i really *needed* His help on this... sticking to an exercise schedule is just not something i've ever been able to do on my own.

And being the brilliant Dom that He is, He came up with the perfect solution... motivation instead of orders! The rule He came up with is that i am *not* allowed to cum *unless* i've done my walking for the day. Simple enough... i can be lazy and horny or get off my butt and have all the orgasms i want...

He knows me so well... i'm a junky for my vibrator, i *rarely* go a day without at least 2 or 3 good strong orgasms. So, wah-laa! Motivation that works and lots of praise for being a good girl and sticking to my walking and it's been working like a charm! (Not to say that my laziness doesn't over-come my horniness at times... i do tend to feel a *lot* less motivated to walk when He puts me on orgasm restriction and during my period, but in general the motivation and rule has been a success and i've been pretty darn consistent with my walking.)

And He's sooo good about making allowances for extenuating circumstances... no treadmill available? No problem, just find some way to get the equivalent of 40 minutes of exercise. When i was on vacation in Hawaii He even counted snorkeling and window shopping as "acceptable forms of exercise".

So, it's *really* easy for me to be a good girl... and completely inexcusable of me to break this simple little rule... after all, it's not like i *have* to walk, i just can't masturbate unless i do... No biggy right?

Yah, well, except for the fact that i'm a lazy, horny little slut. :^)

My partner and i drove down to LA last week, she was all jazzed up about attending a major geek convention (Blizz) and i went along for the ride... forgetting how much i *hate* LA in the summer... (okay i hate it most of the year, but summer is particularly bad.) It was a long drive... we got there way early and had a long wait before we could get all checked in... and i just didn't have the time or energy to go for a walk in that nasty LA smog and heat... honestly didn't think it would be a problem since i wasn't feeling particularly horny anyhow after the hideous travel day.

It's kaya's Fault.

But after we got all checked in, K (my partner) disappeared for a few hours to go hang out with the other geeks, get registered for the convention, etc... and i started reading this amazing journal that i had been wanting to *really* read for a long time. ( http://kaya-s.livejournal.com/ - i don't know how to do those cool little links, sorry.) i started reading it from the very beginning.... and i'm sorry, but it's just NOT possible to read kaya's writing *without* getting horny. So dang, if i didn't end up masturbating like a slave girl in heat (and anyone who knows anything knows that us slave girls are *always* in heat).

No walking. Several good orgasms. Bad Girl.

And if that wasn't bad enough, the very next day, my partner takes off to the convention and i got up and started reading *again*... i lounged around the hotel room and read (and of course masturbated) all day long... figured i would already be in trouble, might as well make it worth my while. Naughty slut.

But after 2 days of breaking the rule... i *knew* i had to fess up and face the consequences... so, i emailed my Dom and told Him what a rotten girl i had been... He was not disappointed or angry, but He made it clear that i *would* be punished, after all, i *had* broken a rule, and not just any rule, but one that i had *asked* for. But He appreciated the fact that i had been honest about it and so i figured the punishment wouldn't be *too* bad...

So the next day... i got up... and started reading again... *luckily* i exercised enough control over myself that i *didn't* masturbate... after all, i *still* didn't know what the punishment for the previous two days was going to be.... that evening i got His reply...

"If you aren't going to use your feet for walking, I might as well use them for cropping. Five strokes for every day you orgasm without exercising."

Simultaneous reactions... panic and horniness.... 'cause that's how us twisted little masochists are.

i was up, dressed and out the door for my walk within about 3 minutes of reading that response. i *knew* i was going to need to masturbate at some point that day... no way to avoit it after reading His email.... And, i *hate*hate*hate*hate*hate* Bastinado. Did i mention that i *really* don't like having my feet struck? Yah, i think you got the idea. My feet are extremely sensitive. He can cane my butt until i'm covered in deep red welts and i will purr like a kitten... one little stroke to my feet and i'm bawling like a baby. He still does it occasionally just for fun... He's sadistic like that. :^)

So, i'm walking... and dreading seeing Him next time... and scared cause i know it's going to hurt and i'm going to hate it... and horny because i'm scared and i know its going to hurt and i know i'm going to hate it (and i *am* a masochist after all)... and even hornier because i have this amazing Dom who comes up with these punishments that are sooo perfect... and hornier still because He didn't let me get away with anything... He cares enough to enforce the rules. And dang if having rules and having them enforced doesn't just make me go *all* wet and sloppy. And more than anything else, i just felt *happy*! Not just happy, but completely elated... giddy even. Not because i had broken a rule... but because i *had* rules to break and someone who would enforce those rules when i did break them.

And i started thinking... gee... i wish i had more rules... how come other subs have so many cool rules... and then i started thinking that maybe i should ask for *more* rules. Okay, i'm getting totally side tracked here, i'm *supposed* to be writing about the punishment... (suffice it to say that He and i will be discussing the possibility of adding more rules next time we see each other. :) yay me!)

So, back to the punishment... my Dom has a very specific and wonderful way of greeting me whenever He comes over (once a week usually). When He walks in, i am to be completely naked, except for my collar, and kneeling low to the floor, calves and forearms completely flat, butt down, head resting on my hands... the key to my collar and the crop on the entry table waiting for Him. Usually, He slides His feet between my head and the floor so that i can kiss and lick them and take off His sandals (i *love* summer time). i always see His naked feet and calves first and dang if i haven't developed a bit of a fetish for men's calves because of it... seeing a guy with strong sexy tanned calves in shorts and sandals can make me come completely undone now.

While i am kissing and licking His feet, He attaches the lock to my collar. The tiny snap noise that the lock makes as it clicks into place is one of my favorite sounds. After that He usually walks around me and fondles my butt or teases my pussy with the crop a bit... making me squirm and moan... and then i get a few good hard "hello" whacks with the crop... before we steps back in front of me and gives me permission to stand and greet Him. :^) Then finally... i get to actually *see* Him again for the first time in a week, sometimes two... His wonderfully evil smile... beautiful blue eyes... and He gives me the most wonderful hug and kisses hello...

And THAT is how the day usually begins... but not last Monday. Last Monday i was in trouble... no foot worship... no greeting... just a quick sharp order to crawl back to the bedroom... and make it fast!

i have painstakingly and laboriously cut and laid over 900 square feet of *hard* tile in my home... i hate every square inch of it when i have to crawl. i'm almost 40, my knees just don't do well on hard surfaces... but i do make fairly decent time when there's a big mean sadist with a crop behind me. :^)

Once we were in the bedroom, He took a moment to lock my collar around my neck, and put my wrist and ankle cuffs on... normally the feel of the soft leather wrapping around my exposed ankles and cuffs and the sound of the little locks clicking into place makes me sigh with contented happiness which almost always brings a laugh from Him...But on Monday, it was different... He was different... i *knew* He wasn't really angry or upset with me... but He was *so* stern, not even the barest smidgen of His normal playfulness... He was taking His job as disciplinarian completely serious and i *knew* that He was not going to go easy on me...

My tummy clenched in panic... my pussy started dripping... and i just wanted to scream... not in fear, but from sheer joy... i was absolutely elated... i had wanted to *beg* Him to punish me... Had been prepared to do so, but i couldn't even look at Him... i was afraid i'd just break out in a huge grin or that even if i managed not to, He would see the happiness in my eyes and then He'd either start laughing and break His composed exterior... or He'd take it as impudence and beat me even harder. i'm not sure which would have been worse. So i kept my eyes carefully averted and tried to focus on the fact that no matter how happy i was about my predicament, the punishment *was* going to hurt *really* bad... that sobered me up a little bit... but not much. i laid there, while He chained and tied me up securely, face up... wrist cuffs attached to my collar... (oh thank goodness, i could cover my face with my hands), ankles attached to chains hanging from eye hooks in the ceiling... knees bent a piece of rope securing my ankles together.

He lecture me briefly before He started. He didn't want to hear a word out of me except for the count until He was done... no yellow safeword... i could use red. But only in an emergency and if i used red, then the count would start over again from the beginning once we continued. His voice was completely controlled, stern, strict, no sympathy or emotion.... but no anger either... My father was a mentally and emotionally abusive rage-aholic... i would fall apart completely if i ever sensed that He was *really* upset with me. He knows that about me and He wanted this punishment to be physically painful, but NOT emotionally traumatic for me... and He was doing everything He could *not* to push my emotional buttons... i sensed that before the first strike and i slid into a safe and wonderful place of being able to accept the consequences of my actions, accept His punishment as such, accept the pain that came with it...

i was smiling behind my hands when the first strike fell across the soles of both feet and i screamed... the pain was excruciating... my smile disappeared as i gasped and sucked in enough air to force the first count through my clenched teeth. Four more strikes followed... by the third or fourth i was sobbing... i remember Him lecturing me between strikes.... but i don't remember the words... something about being ungrateful, *making* Him punish me when He would much rather have me sucking His cock or licking His ass... or beating me because He *wanted* to... He talked about how lenient He is with me... how *easy* it is for me to follow that particular rule... one that *i* had begged Him to make...

i slipped once and answered "Yes Sir"... which earned me a hard slap of the crop to my upper thigh and a hissed out order to keep silent... and then the first set was done...

He gave me a brief break between sets... and then started over again... 5 more hard strokes from the crop across the soles of my feet... not sure how i managed to keep the count, but between my sobs and screams i did.... and then it was over.... i don't remember Him unchaining or unlocking me... i was ordered to crawl into the family room... and for once, i didn't mind crawling down the long hallway over all of that horrible hard tile *nearly* as much... He sat down in the comfy chair in the corner of the family room and i crawled over and knelt between His feet... then He gave me permission to thank Him for punishing me... and i did... and i meant every word of it.

i'm sooo grateful that He is so strict and sadistic and yet kind and wonderful... and that He cares about me. That He knows what i need in order to feel safe and secure... that He cares enough to give me rules to help me be a better person, and cares enough to punish me when i break those rules. He could have made the punishment *so* much worse than it was... i'm *very* keenly aware of how easy He went on me... that He paused between strokes to give me time to recover before the next one... that He didn't strike with His full force... the strokes were *hard* but i *know* He can hit much harder... heck, He could have even given me 5 strokes for *each* orgasm i had instead of just for each day... but He didn't. He was firm but fair... the punishment was difficult but not over the limits of what i can handle. And i'm grateful for all of those things. i really don't know how i got so lucky. :)

After thanking Him for the punishment He had me repeat exactly what i had done wrong and beg Him for forgiveness, and i did, i groveled and begged, finally ending my apology and plea by admitting that i had acted like a lazy horny slut and that i was truly sorry.

And then, He forgave me... He pulled me up into His arms, kissed and held me... and then He smiled at me... and it was all gone... i knew that i was completely forgiven and that everything was okay... and i smiled back up at Him.... sigh. :^)

The rest of the day was just as wonderful. But then again, days with my Him always are. :^)

(Click here to post your own answers for this meme.)

✓ I miss somebody right now.  (My Dom is going to be gone for 2 whole weeks... and Daliance_dream is going to be gone all of next week... all of my favorite play partners gone... :^()	✓ I don't watch much TV these days.  (too busy getting hit with sticks. :^))	✓ I own lots of books.  (Although not nearly enough of them are about bdsm... and i desperately want Midori's book on Shibari.)
✓ I wear glasses or contact lenses.	✓ I love to play video games.  (Well, love is a bit strong... i *like* playing WoW, but if given a choice i'd rather be pouring hot wax on someone... or having it poured on me. :^))	✓ I've tried marijuana.  (.... but i didn't inhale.... ;^))
✓ I've watched porn movies.  (.... and most of them suck.)	✓ I have been the psycho-ex in a past relationship.  (only once... and that was because i was pregnant, hormonal and the guy would *not* go away... 17 years later we are still in contact and now good friends. lol)	✓ I believe honesty is usually the best policy.
✓ I curse sometimes.  (But don't tell my Dom... He'll make me write lines.)	✓ I have changed a lot mentally over the last year.  (Discovering bdsm will do that to you.)	× I carry my knife/razor everywhere with me.  (Do nail clippers count?)

( it goes on... )