Silly girls are scared about the unknown, the others are just too curious to stop opening wrapped boxes

What would you do if somebody brought a box and told you not to open it? Hm, difficult to answer. If Master said so, ok, easy, I’d obey, would still be left curious and would ask later on, what the box contained. But if anybody else told me not to open that box … that’s the tricky bit. Unless they told me there’d be an immediate threat of life, I probably would shake it, weigh it, try to guess what is in it, and maybe open the box, unless I’d have the feeling that I would seriously breach somebody’s trust, or let somebody down, which I would not do. But I really love surprises, preferably the nice ones.

Being gullible

I think, if you know answers to questions like these, you might know yourself well, or even better, you might know what other people are like. There is no bragging intended here from my side, because I am usually awfully bad at such things. The example with the box was taken out of reality, I have faced this situation and therefore I just recounted my actions then, but otherwise, you could tell me that Pinocchio, The Wizard of Oz or any others are not liars, Jack the Ripper was just a nice guy and so on. I guess I would believe most of it, typical case of being gullible, ok. What makes matters worse is that I for one need a lot of time to find out what people are like in general, until the penny has dropped, whether they are genuinely friendly characters or not. That's where my hubby (a.k.a. Master) and friends (-> real friends ->catastrophy-hardened and reliable) help me to sort things out.

What to look out for

What I should look out for are traits like reliability, honesty, whether this person is really trustworthy, is that one tolerant, fair, does he/she care for others? Is the person in question honestly compassionate? Does that one have a lot of empathy and is considerate?  Even if so, how do I know if it really is genuine? Sometimes it is just a matter of time, till even I do see what kind of character someone is. In the past, I have only had one really terrible encounter with another woman who apparently was nice and I believed that, took her behaviour for the truth. The truth was, that she had tried to get me kicked out of my job then (Duh, I have not always been a housewife!) and never said an unfriendly word into my direction. That the truth came out, was just one of my friends' achievements, because I would not have believed that someone who had treated me nicely could be such an evil character. I am still puzzled about this incident, though it is long over and its only purpose now is to serve as an example, how difficult it can be to see what someone is like.

Shades of grey :)

So, here we are, my conclusion so far is: if I am going to have a look at somebody's character, I need a lot of time, to find them out. My friends and Master need about one glance only, and then they are informed and can tell about someone. Since I don't believe that I am the only one with such a problem of seeing everything through rose-coloured glasses, there are probably at least two groups of people: those who can discern the good ones from the bad ones quickly and those who cannot (I don't like black and white as colours too much, but in developing my idea thinking in black and white terms is easier, for the moment). If there are those two groups, there are probably many others who can discern some traits quicker and others slower, too (the grey ones).

The wrapped box

What could you do to help you  find out about someone quicker? I love spending time with people, if they are  friendly ones, that is. Nevertheless,  after one evening, some of my friends can tell so much about others that they just leave me flabbergasted. I would love to have that ability, and whatever I do, I don't have the feeling that my way of looking at others has improved over the years, I just have learned to listen to those I know I can trust. If strangers behave nice, I consider them nice. On the one hand it is annoying, but on the other hand I don't mind too much, because I don't have the feeling that I could change it. I would just go on believing that even the worst culprit must be nice, if given the chance. I think even if told that someone was an infamous liar and whatever, if anybody, I would be the one who would still spend time with that one. My great luck in such moments are my Master and our friends who have always been there in times of need. As you can see, I would always opt for opening the wrapped box, even if it was a smelly one.

Why some women can let go and others can’t

Recently I had a discussion with a friend about why some women cannot let go during sex. I know, sex again, sorry for that, but this was something we talked about. I think this is rather controversial, because I know that my idea does not apply to every woman. Besides, I don't want to offend anybody and hope this is not misunderstood completely.

There is a growing group of women who have trouble in bed, they more or less do in bed, what they do in their jobs: they are persistent and assertive, they use their intellect where they should not, in my opinion, they should listen to their heart, or better, follow their emotional guide and if they think at all in bed, it should be maybe more about how they feel in this moment with their partner. This is not directly connected to DD or D/s relationships, I think that rationalising about everything in bed is deadly for every kind of intimacy and horrible, because I think this behaviour creates pressure in bed, where fun, peace, ease and being relaxed should be the only important bit to care for. It reminds me of people who go on holiday, are overactive all the time, just because they want to fill any minute with activity and have no chance to relax at all, instead when they return home, they are more exhausted than ever. I believe, this cannot be healthy.

My point is about women and what happens in bed, though. Among friends, I have heard more than once that some put this kind of pressure onto themselves in the bedroom. Actually, I connect this kind of behaviour with what men tend to do, also in the bedroom, being focused on success, and probably also with a certain kind of aggressive attitude behind it. For me, this sounds like a horrible experience. I always thought that some of the best characteristics of women are to be allowed to be sensitive, to be allowed just to give to him and fulfil his needs as well as my own with that, to show emotion and enjoy the moment. Yes, I know, completely out of date, that's what I would expect some to reply. But there is nothing wrong with you, if you need a lot of intimacy, if you just need a lot of time to spend with your partner in bed, if you want to be touched physically and emotionally. The time you spend together in bed is only a good one, if it is more than a physical experience. Take your time, because these intimate moments are not meant to be a race or a business contract where there can only be one winner. Even if you do not agree with me, I am so sure that you have the picture of someone who behaves like a racer in bed, you probably know someone like that, no matter whether this one is male or female. In my opinion, men tend to be like that, and to a certain degree that is fine, though definitely not enough to satisfy the needs of a woman. Sure, just like we can do all the things men can do, we can also be like men in bed, but this does not mean, that we should. I am not discussing same rights for both sexes, same money for same work, and so on, because these ideas are extremely important and should go without saying. I am talking about relationships and emotional distortions and about the pressure to succeed that women create for themselves. It is against women's strengths and qualities. If I had to be like that, it would make me completely unhappy. And I am sure I would not enjoy being in bed with any partner if I had this idea that I need to be successful in bed.

Release, release, release, hallelujah

Last night, Master finally gave me, what I had yearned for during the last two weeks. He had let me wait like this before, longer than just two weeks, therefore, it should not have been a problem for me to cope with the situation. But this time it really felt like torture, because of him teasing me again and again. I enjoy sexual activities, but usually it is not that I really need to orgasm to be satisfied emotionally, though usually I get that too. It is more like the icing on the cake, and I love that, as you can imagine, but the cake is sweet without it, too.

Last night he really had worked hard to give me far more than I had ever imagined. Since I already was emotionally and physically aroused and could not cool down completely, it would not have taken much to let me orgasm. But instead of doing this, I got a long lovely, soft session, only with massages - where he never touched my already burning hotspot - and his current favourite, the little Wartenberg wheel. He created this mix again, which was already enough to set me off. I was blindfolded and bound at hands and feet and whenever I reached the point of no return, he stopped right in time. So, what he did again, was tease and denial at its finest. I did not know then what he wanted to do with me, but if you have learned over the last days, that it could all stop, any moment, you can imagine how much frustration started to boil up, nicely mixed with a lot of pleasure, because it all felt sooooo good. Well, I would have been disappointed, if he had not allowed me to orgasm, but he had no intention of hurrying in dealing with me. After a lot of time and an even greater lot of relaxing and arousing me to the limit, he finally touched my clit and that was all it needed. I felt like I exploded and wave after wave after wave after wave rushed through me. This orgasm seemed to last forever, the pleasurable contractions in me took an incredibly, lovely long time, and only when they subsided slowly, did he actually enter me, which was already enough to let me explode a second time and  a moment later a third, and a moment later .... .

I am sure you get the idea. This was an unbelievable incredible wow-experience, and just like often before, I am glad that I can sit comfortably and don't have to walk around too much at the moment. According to what my body feels like at the moment, I know it will take a few days for me to recover from this experience, and there's definitely no jogging today and tomorrow.

After last night, you could see me all serene and full of bliss, grinning. Since I was just too exhausted from what had happened to me, I fell asleep before we had enough time talking. This morning's breakfast was a relaxed but rather quiet one too, because I was still busy figuring out, what had hit me last night. I mean, my physical constitution is not as good as that of Master's,  but I do exercises, go swimming, jogging and some other, so that I can handle physical effort well, and then there's one night and I am completely exhausted, as if I had just finished a marathon. But this is the best form of being exhausted, because it nevertheless creates this complete emotional and physical satisfaction in me. If possible, I'll talk things through with Master today, which is necessary for me, to understand what was going on with him and me last night. After all, I could not notice more than the physical bits and pieces that he would allow me to feel, thank god to the blindfold. In addition to that, I am still emotionally stirred up, though feeling fine with it, and I am at peace somehow -- and overanalyzing right now. Happens, when I need to talk to Master.

I have my own list of labels now, woohoo?!

Finally I have managed to create a blogger list of labels. I did not even notice this feature before. This is nice and better than what happened when google+ came up with some I did not like.

sexually frustrated meets horny

Master did it again, he has started another round of tease and denial. I am still waiting for sexual release, but no, not yet. Slaves can wait. Instead, since I am emotionally stable again,  he took his time with me in the kitchen. Actually, this was only a short encounter, but it was enough to return me into this state of a walking erogenous zone again. Well, I can breathe it away.... no not really.
First he touched my left nipple, only by accident, of course.... I am wearing a very soft cream-coloured silk blouse today, so you can imagine what it looked like the same moment, when my nipples both came forward. I only thought 'what the heck ...' and he had his most devilish grin in his face and mine went all red. At first, I had wanted to start preparing lunch, but that thought was gone immediately. Instead my hope grew that finally, after this whole week, where he had barely touched me (all disciplin, yeah, sure), he would be nice and generous and help me get what I wanted. Nope, you know better.
Master turned directly behind me and just ordered me to bend over (my hopes were still high and any touch of his would bring me closer again, it is that easy at the moment) and he pulled my knickers down and my skirt up. Mmmhhhh, Yes, please Master, continue, which he actually did, very slowly, but only with two fingers, his thumb and his pointer, he used them on and around my clit, very slowly.
I mean, we both knew that it would not need much to finish me and he deliberately brought me really close, so that I could already see heaven. Only to fall down again. He virtually cooed into my ear that I am a good girl and would earn my reward. I could not see him then, because my eyes were still closed, but I could really hear him grin at me. He was kind enough to pull my skirt down again, after he had completely disarranged me within around two minutes. I kicked away my knickers in frustration, which he laughed at, but he took them with him then. I guess this is his version of adult family entertainment, but not really mine. Still, my hopes are high enough to wonder how long he really wants to continues this. He did not leave the impression that he wanted me to suffer forever, but he definitely enjoys showing me who is in control. Oh, lunch was nice too, btw.

my triggers which lead to me feeling more consciously submissive

Most times it is just enough that Master is there and speaks to me. When he does that he often does it in a rather claiming and demanding way. It depends on the tone he uses then, but in general his voice is a real trigger for me. He has other ways, too, but this always does the trick.

Being bound does that too, the less flexible the more I feel it. The time before I get a punishment, the waiting for it, and in addition, being lectured, that's his voice again then.

When I am told to do something which is not vanilla, that starts something in me too, like being told to kneel down in front of him. If I stand naked in front of him, it can happen, though that is not always true, because I like being naked (at home) in general, so this is not only connected to submissiveness. It surely happens, if he is still clothed and I am not and he inspects me. Then I am fully aware of my position, see him as my Master only and have this itch to please him. And when I am already in this condition and he deliberately talks to me in this comforting way and calls me his pet (works sometimes) or, even better, says something like 'good girl', I am all done. I love this tingling sensation in my stomach and below that I get from him doing such things and it creates this feeling in me that I am almost like an outside audience watching him and me. Sounds abstract, I know. 2nd attempt: It is like I am watching a movie, though I am fully aware of everything he does to me then. This is not subspace I am talking about, it is more as if I feel every sensation around me more intensely than before, but I am still fully aware of everything, not in some kind of trance.

Rope, chain, scarves and safety

When I am bound we use either ropes or chains. If it is to press onto certain sensitive spots, Master prefers rope.Usually we have the colourful nylon ones for that and if it is going to be a bit tighter, I like the ones that have a wider diameter than my thumb, because I always feel they hurt less, if at all.
Hemp is something that we have here too, but I don't like it much. If Master uses that, I don't dare to move around or wriggle my wrists, because that hurts and is bad for the skin. Of course, he uses it because I don't wriggle around in it.

If I am meant to dangle from a hook in the ceiling, Master takes chains more often. I like that best with leather cuffs, because they are very soft and nothing hurts along the wrists with them on. Metal cuffs are different, but Master does not use them in that situation.

Of course, there are also other means to stop me from wriggling around, one of my favourites are silk scarves. If Master uses these, I feel as if I get an extra treat. Usually the activities he does then are intense but somehow add up into another direction than the ones he does with rope or chains. It is probably just my expectation that changes how I feel about it, because for me it feels different with rope and different again with chains. With scarves, everything appears to be more erotic from the start, like what might easily be after a candlelight dinner, with a fireplace and a warming fire in the background. With rope I feel the urge stronger and quicker to be used sexually (I am talking about intercourse), and with chains I feel more helpless than with the other kinds of being bound, the feeling of surrender is greatest then.
None of these kinds of being bound is bad, I love them all, because they are all exciting and arouse me even before Master has started doing anything else. I could recommend them all, but whatever you do, make sure that you have a pair of scissors at hand, in case of emergency, and don’t drink alcohol if you intend to do bondage. Make sure that your sub has a way of communicating if something is wrong. Either a safeword, or put something into her hand, which makes a lot of noise if she lets it fall down.
Since I am Master’s slave and also because Master and I have been together for so long it is not necessary to negotiate anything. He does it the way he wants to. Nevertheless I know that I can rely on him, because even though we don’t negotiate a scene (which you should, if you are not with your regular partner or don’t know enough about her, or just try something new, etc.), we talk a lot about what we like or dislike, what worked well or did not, especially where the pain went into the wrong direction. Even though I am not the real expert about the how to do-section, I am always the one who feels the result of what he does, first.Therefore I am glad that he listens to what I have to say about sessions we do.
 
And whatever you do, be safe, sane and consensual.

soft music during sessions

When I am bound and blindfolded, either horizontal on bed or standing/dangling with my arms up, my personal favourite music is from Madredeus.
They are from Portugal and make very calm, unobtrusive music (Fado), very melodious, often with a melancholic touch to it. Try their album Ainda, which is lovely. Most songs on it are very calm and the two songs that are a bit livelier and louder are still unobtrusive.

Madredeus, album Ainda (---> for harmony-seekers and dreamers)

With many of their songs you could even let wax drop on your submissive and keep the beat with it, because they are rather slow. Lovely.

My favourite songs (shortest version possible)

This could be another endless list, but I'll make it pretty short

Joni Mitchell and The Chieftains, The Magdalene Laundries.
(This is a really heartbreaking story and sung most beautifully)

Juliet Turner, Broken Things
(I think it is not available any longer, it is from Across the Bridge of Hope, in aid of the Omagh fund. If this does not touch you, ...)

Macklemore, featuring Mary Lambert, Same Love
(lovely song, about same sex rights, none of us likes HipHop, usually. This song is the sole exception, because it is beautifully arranged and touching)

Bono and Gavin Friday, In the Name of the Father
(no, we are not Irish nationalists at all, but we love good music)

Flogging Molly (more hubby's, too loud for me)

Mumford and Sons, Babel/Red Rocks Live
(I don't think you could stop dancing when their songs are played, I can't)
 

the arbitrary list of favourite poets and poems part II I'll try not to overdo it, promise

Love's Philosophy

by Percy Bysshe Shelley
(1803-1822)

The fountains mingle with the river,
And the rivers with the ocean;
The winds of heaven mix forever,
With a sweet emotion;
Nothing in the world is single;
All things by a law divine
In one another's being mingle;--
Why not I with thine?  

See! the mountains kiss high heaven,
And the waves clasp one another;
No sister flower would be forgiven,
If it disdained it's brother;
And the sunlight clasps the earth,
And the moonbeams kiss the sea;--
What are all these kissings worth,
If thou kiss not me?



This is rather sad, but lovely sad and I think it evokes a lot of images and emotions. Just try to visualize what Shelley wrote, it is so beautiful.



My last one, maybe I'll add some more another time, but I'll stop with Seamus Heaney. It really made me sad that he passed away. I've always loved Irish poetry, Yeats first of all, but Seamus Heaney is directly next in line. My heartfelt sympathy rests with the family.


Digging

Between my finger and my thumb   

The squat pen rests; snug as a gun.

Under my window, a clean rasping sound   

When the spade sinks into gravelly ground:   

My father, digging. I look down

Till his straining rump among the flowerbeds   

Bends low, comes up twenty years away   

Stooping in rhythm through potato drills   

Where he was digging.

The coarse boot nestled on the lug, the shaft   

Against the inside knee was levered firmly.

He rooted out tall tops, buried the bright edge deep

To scatter new potatoes that we picked,

Loving their cool hardness in our hands.

By God, the old man could handle a spade.   

Just like his old man.

My grandfather cut more turf in a day

Than any other man on Toner’s bog.

Once I carried him milk in a bottle

Corked sloppily with paper. He straightened up

To drink it, then fell to right away

Nicking and slicing neatly, heaving sods

Over his shoulder, going down and down

For the good turf. Digging.

The cold smell of potato mould, the squelch and slap

Of soggy peat, the curt cuts of an edge

Through living roots awaken in my head.

But I’ve no spade to follow men like them.

Between my finger and my thumb

The squat pen rests.

I’ll dig with it.

The arbitrary list of favourite poets and poems

One of the poets who impressed me deeper than most others was Siegfried Sassoon. Most of his writings are about war, and I really hate that topic. What I read from his poems really gave me the creeps and it set my imagination flaring, alas, in the wrong direction, because I got nightmares from reading his poems. Nevertheless, for me, he is among the greatest, though I cannot stand what he writes about, he really left an impression. If it is easy to scare you, maybe you should wait for another poem, I am going to put here, because most of the ones I like are about love.

The Dug- Out

Why do you lie with your legs ungainly huddled,
And one arm bent across your sullen, cold,
Exhausted face? It hurts my heart to watch you,
Deep-shadowed from the candle's guttering gold;
And you wonder why I shake you by the shoulder;
Drowsy, you mumble and sigh and turn your head...
You are too young to fall asleep for ever;
And when you sleep you remind me of the dead.

St Venant, Jul 1918



and the inevitable Shakespeare, I know it is a rather drastic change of subjects, but it makes me depressive if there is only a morbid poem in my list to start with. Usually poetry is something that helps to cheer me up.

SONNET 116

Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove:
O no! it is an ever-fixed mark
That looks on tempests and is never shaken;
It is the star to every wandering bark,
Whose worth's unknown, although his height be taken.
Love's not Time's fool, though rosy lips and cheeks
Within his bending sickle's compass come:
Love alters not with his brief hours and weeks,
But bears it out even to the edge of doom.
   If this be error and upon me proved,
   I never writ, nor no man ever loved.