So, where is my head tonight as I write? Ah, a funny thing you should ask. I did get some face time with Master after work tonight, which was really nice. We talked, flirted. He pinched me some on my arms, tickled me a bit (why, why am I so fucking ticklish??!!) and it was a nice chance to “touch” one another for the first time since play time.
I told Him of some of the “negative” feedback regarding the HNT pictures, comments which surprised me, frankly. He reminded me that TTWD is a continuum…and though *I*’ve been here for 3.5 years, many readers are “new” to me and to U/us…and haven’t followed the path to where we were, and where we’ve come from, and where we’ve yet to go.
And that helped give me some perspective.
I’m very proud of my bruises, you see. They prove something to me, several somethings. That I am strong. I often feel like I’m not, you know. Because I’m also so very, very needy, which makes me feel…you know…weak.
The bruises prove something else. That He can hurt me with love. Because HE needs it. That we’ve found this connection of yin-yang that pleases us both.
They are beauty marks. Marks of His love for me, written all over my body. The bite marks are especially special…reminders of a ferocious bout of sex and pleasure and pain, a dance of primeval lust. Marks of my love for Him, that I can take this pain, that my body transforms His beast beatings into a lust-fire so intense it’s a wonder we aren’t both consumed by the conflagration.
This blog is not just a place of sexy stories, but also the place where I talk of my journey. It’s the place where I found myself when I first started questioning why. Why did all those “perverted” stories that I’d been reading turn me into a wet puddle of goo as I surreptitiously read them? Why did my heart pound and my pussy ooze when I read of real people. Real women? People who did this…for real?
They called themselves “submissives”. . . but who did that, really? Let themselves be used. “Holes” they were, there to be used however their “owners” wanted. Kaya was my first, soon followed by doubleknot. They were sexual slaves.
I was so far removed from all of that. I was a good girl-a good woman. Sure, I hadn’t had sex with my spouse (a woman) for years. Sure I’d always had feelings towards both men and women. But I was a lesbian. And I was a good girl.
Except…I began to suspect that I wasn’t a good girl. Not in my head. Not between my legs. I tried to “quit” and went a month without reading any of “those” blogs. And found myself curious. Insatiably curious. What if.
What if I wasn’t a “normal” woman, what if I had these submissive feelings for real?
I was a good girl…except for that one, niggling question.
Ah, that “except” has made all the difference, hasn’t it?
I keep that poem by Frost where I can read it every day. The Road Less Traveled. I’ve even posted it here. It is my “touchstone”, or what some might call a defense–for I, I took the road less traveled by-and that has made all the difference.
So–I ask you to not judge my Master, nor I, by my bruises. By His ability…no…His desire to make me, mark me, as His, nor my desire to bear them. I ask you to not judge Him or me, at all, just as you would not want to be judged for how you and your Master/Sir, or slave/sub/girl/boi handle your relationships.
You’ll never know where this journey will take you as you move along…maybe you’re a dabbler and you’ll stop at a few spankings. Maybe you’re adventuresome and will want to pierce, or tattoo or brand your slave. Maybe you’re so enthralled with your Dominant that you’ll do just about anything (barring of course, removal of limbs, having sex with cattle, or harming family members…you know, sensible stuff.)…the point here?
It’s not for me to judge your kink.
Nor is it for you to judge mine.
I’m not going to feel put off by those who think my bruises are extreme, since they please me too much. I just really needed to get this off my chest.
Because bruises of the body? Those I’m happy (and desirous) to bear for Him. Bruises of the spirit caused by naysayers? Nah. Those I’m just going to let those slide on by.