If today is Tuesday, this must be slave night…

First off, let me say i intend to post more frequently. i realized that it gives Master pleasure when i post often, well, because *He* updated His blog (http://masterron.wordpress.com) something like two days in a row. And i found myself checking to see if it had been updated again!

Ahh, i said to my slave self, human nature. Of course it would be nice to open the book of self more often for Him…one doesn’t have to turn to the most eloquent page every single time! So i will strive to update more frequently if for no other reason than that it’s *fun* for Him! Since i’m writing about Him or us, of course it’s fun for Him to read.

i don’t know why it look me so long to understand this…i thought He would be horribly bored if my blog was too mundane, but i’m going to leave that up to Him to judge. Really, what was i thinking?! i *do* know. i’m a writer and it’s hard not to let my ego lead me around by the nose – it only wants to show the shiny, smart-sounding slave. But it might be more authentic to post more consistently and freely and let the chips fall where they may in terms of literary merit!

And now for slave musings:

Two things warrant my update today: feelings on my collar and Master’s kind creation of Slave Night for me.

The Eternity Collar and how it feels:

When i say “feel” i do mean physically and otherwise. Physically i will say that the first few days (and probably week) are about adjustment. The night of the collaring and on Sunday the collar seemed to float on my neck and collarbone (hmm, collarbone) and the next days, today and yesterday, i noticed a difference. i seem more aware of the collar’s presence today and yesterday. i’m not sure why but i’m beginning to suspect that i have better posture at least some of the time when i’m with Master than i do alone or in the wanderings of my more vanilla life. The collar seems to be most comfortable when i sit up straight and keep my head aligned more accurately with my spine. When i slouch, it seems to make the collar heavier and it sits differently.

For those who didn’t read my last two posts nor Master’s transcript of the collaring (see links up and to the right!), the collar in question is the Eternity collar (www.eternitycollars.com), made of 5/16″ Gauge Solid Stainless Steel. The design is the “original” Eternity Collar, but mine’s slightly larger in circumference, resting gently at the base of my neck. This collar is very substantial; there’s simply no way to forget (for long) that you’re wearing it. And that is a lovely thing! What a blessing to remember, many times a day that i am owned, cherished and forever connected to Master.

Without really taking this topic and running with it (and i think will some other time – it’s a great topic), let me go so far as to say that wearing the collar assists in creating a more mindful awareness and demeanor – how very fortunate!! The collar does what i could not on my own: it reminds me that i am His, i am owned.

So many times during the day i touch it – to feel it’s comfort, to feel it’s “real-ness,” to feel Him near me (what’s nearer than a solid steel collar around your neck, i ask?!) And like a brief meditation (i guess that’s what it is, really, a moment of insight) i gently bring my attention back to my intention to serve, to be the best i can be, and this helps to quiet the internal dialog, the discursive thinking. An unexpected benefit!

i continue to receive a number of compliments on the collar as “jewelry” by vanilla people. Vanilla people *love* this thing! People nod approvingly when i tell them that my boyfriend bought it for me. It feels weird to me; i’m never about garnering the approval of the vanillas! Just don’t care anymore! Yet there’s something about how i and this collar are perceived that vanilla’s approve of highly. It’s good for entertaining me, anyway.

Slave Night

The first thing i need to explain is the fact that Master is “… a 2.5 year veteran of Second Life, is Vice President and General Manager of Second Life Public Radio, a 24/7 streaming internet station aimed into the MMORPG Second Life and Sony Wii…”* and as such, i’m always tuned into Second Life Public Radio at home. Can’t do it at work because of the damn firewall, but home it’s on 24/7. A substantial portion of the music on the stream is Master’s. We’re both music people with incredibly wide tastes. Master is probably the only other person i know with tastes as wide as mine! So this means that a lot of the music we share together ends up in the stream.

SLPR is not solely Master, and others contribute their own music as SLPR DJs, but a funny sort of nested phenomenon occurs whereupon all or *most* of the music in the stream ends up being “our” music to me. It’s a soundtrack. It grows richer and more varied the more music Master adds, whether it’s his pretty vast collection, or my more specialized one.

Once or twice before, Master very kindly put songs into the stream when He knew i was to be cleaning and doing house-y things. Sometimes, if i have enough energy, i can successfully maintain a slave-hearted attitude about keeping up my own place, but a lot of the time loneliness and fatigue win. i have a long day. i get up at 5:45 on weekdays, and don’t retire until around midnight most nights, occasionally later. i work full time and am the single mother of an energetic, bright and active five and a half year old daughter. It’s very easy to procrastinate under these circumstances.

i’d prefer to work on stuff for my job, chat with Master (or friends), attend to email, paint, oh any number of other things. i think some slack is legitimate; i’m tired. i also thing i slack off too much when i shouldn’t. So i need a little motivation, a little virtual company while i wash dishes! So tonight i asked Master if Tuesday nights could be “slave nights” – a night to accomplish things, undertaken in a slave-spirit…while at the same time Master could play some favorites on the stream. It’s such a nice little thing, this indulgence. So practical, good mental exercise, on a night that is otherwise mundane and ordinary to me. Master can be there virtually, our soundtrack playing in the background while i work. So when i spoke with Master this evening on the phone, i politely asked if we could have Tuesday nights be “slave night”, with soundtrack, and He granted me this boon! Time flew tonight as i did the dishes; my mood was calm and my mind at peace instead of engaging in it’s constant (sometimes negative) chatter. Ah, so much better. Good practice. Less stress. More mindfulness. That can only be a good thing.

Thanks Master: for being generous, supportive and practical in this, as You are in all things. Quality of life is important to me as i define it for myself; Master improves my quality of life so much, it spills over into everything i do. Small things can really alter our attitudes; isn’t it amazing what one human being can do for one another?

Ours is an edgy, left-handed path if ever there were one. We exist at the fringe of the fringe, Master and i – it’s a helluva an outpost, our turf. But so many people would benefit from our lifestyle…for its consciousness, it’s structure, it’s journey. Surrender, quiet the mind, focus on serving, be in the present. How many different traditions share these values? Perhaps someday the outré nature of BDSM won’t be as off-putting to vanilla people in search of personal growth…i’d like to think that with some education, that the practice of lifestyle BDSM could gain respect. Maybe by chronicling our journey and revealing our practices, perhaps the world will see. Right now, all i know is that my dishes are clean and i haven’t had anything like sub-drop for quite a while. This emotional environment is very comfortable. Having clean dishes ain’t so bad either.

After the collaring….

Last night Master and i had our collaring ceremony at the Space. It was attended by most of the people i would have wanted there; inevitably life interferes with stuff and we were missing two of my former Masters, both of whom are dear to me in different ways.

But those who did attend lent their attention and support (sometimes physically – thanks Beth! 4.5 inch heels do not make for grace in getting up and down from a kneeling position!) Master’s words were kind and heartfelt…so genuinely *His* in their energy…He spoke of how we met…how our journey has progressed over time…and of what is to come.

i remember being fascinated and amazed that it was really me there, on my knees…that it was actually happening. And i remember the gravitas with which Master spoke of how the collar confers the protection of the Master, and the Master’s promise not to harm the slave…then of feeling my heart expand almost infinitely when he said that that promise was reciprocal. Indeed, that Dominants get hurt, too, and the collar implies an agreement that the slave shall not harm the Dominant.

It was a very vulnerable and self-revealing thing to say. You don’t hear that much in our lifestyle. We should hear more of it. Those of us who have been in the lifestyle long enough do seem to understand the concept, however. i could go on and on about how negotiation happens inside scenes and relationships and how the bottom really controls the scene with their limits…how the Dominant in his or her way serves the submissive…that’s not really where i’m going though. All that is true (well if you have a brain and are paying attention you know that in functional relationships both parties serve *each other* and fulfill each other’s needs). But that piece of emotional content from what Master said is what i want to focus on for a moment.

“Dominants get hurt, too.” How easy to forget that. After all, isn’t the Top in charge? Strong? In control? i think some bottoms forget all too easily that a certain amount of *vulnerability* and risk-taking is involved for the Dominant, especially emotionally. Being a true switch, i know of this first-hand. Without emotional safety, the D/s relationship is literally “top-heavy”, and puts an enormous energetic load on the Dominant. In M/s relationships, especially, we tend to think of the slave as the one who sacrifices…the one who gives their power to the Dominant. However, inherent in this power-exchange dynamic is the tiniest kernel of power, and that kernel is like a singularity, with *all* the energy resting on it. The fact is, in “real life” (or whatever), the sub, bottom or slave may *withdraw their consent*. Yup folks, that’s right.

It’s like an inverted pyramid resting on this little point…if the slave says, “i’m outta here,” barring being chained to something (not impossible!), the agreement to stay and be a slave is still a matter of consent. You can have a slave contract. You can have a collar. You can have a wedding ring for that matter. In the end, you’re still talking about two human beings. People betray each other sometimes. People grow apart. People sometimes simply change their minds.

How many times has a Dominant been left with someone’s collar in their hands, slave gone, wondering what happened? i used to call this “Runaway sub” syndrome. The D/s relationship is demanding, sometimes very much more so than the vanilla. Balancing the demand is the need for powerful openness and transparency. Without it, there you are as a Dominant, with an empty collar, slave gone.

So. As i knelt there before Master, i pledged silently that no matter what, i would remember this vulnerability. At 42 and almost 41, respectively, both He and i have been betrayed more often than not. We are cognizant of our pasts…and of the fact that despite everyone’s best intentions, despite love, despite honor and agreements, that people do get hurt. There was a physical sensation in my heart at that moment…it’s so hard to put into words…it was like my heart was bigger than the room…huge, containing my love, my promises….

i flashed back to how Master and i met eight years ago…at that time, the power polarities were reversed. i was in Top mode, actively seeking a submissive. A play partner, actually. i wasn’t looking for a slave or a life partner. But as anyone in this scene can attest (and Master spoke to this directly in the ceremony!), play relationships sometimes become something more. Master was married when i met him…and i distinctly remember thinking, “Oh, how safe! The cards are on the table, there’s a limit to how far our feelings can go.” How naive of me! In fact, i was blown away by who he was. i was humbled by his submission. My heart was cracked open. And i wanted *more*. i didn’t want a slice of him, i wanted the whole pie.

But i wasn’t about to break up a marriage…karmically and relationship-wise that just sets up a *really* bad precedent. So i hid my feelings. But my heart was just breaking inside me. Now i knew what was possible. i couldn’t go back to being just play partners. There was real love there, despite our agreement that this was to be a relationship with very distinct boundaries. i remember feeling absolutely sick with unhappiness. So i did the only thing a Dominant can when they hurt that badly…i left. i did *not* want him to know how badly i was feeling. i let other things distract me from the pain, and even took a sabbatical from the scene; i couldn’t continue without him.

So i understood all too well in that moment, on my knees, the enormous risk Master was taking with me. People can talk a really good game in the beginning of a relationship. People say things they think they mean, they really *want* to mean what they say and people even try their hardest and still fail to give the other what they need. It’s happened to me. It happened in my most recent serious relationship. Promises, promises. Sometimes people simply don’t know what they’re getting into. They think they can handle the specific demands of a relationship. They really want to. But some fundamental discord gets in the way and relationships end. So this risk element really penetrated to my deepest self…i heard it, really felt it actually. Part of me wanted to use words to assure in that moment, to convince, to wrap His heart in something protective with my words. But the problem with that is that words are…just words.

The proof is in the pudding, as Gramma used to say. Time. Being there. Hard work. That’s the proof. Nothing less than continuing to work at it, *mutually* submitting to the commitment. i believe it was St. Augustine who said, “Love is work made manifest.” You can say, “I love you,” over and over again and it ain’t worth the air you used to say it, unless you keep backing it up with your actions.

If i make a pledge now, it’s really to myself. The pledge is this: that when i touch this collar, i will always remember His commitment, His vulnerability, his willingness to risk. i know about my own risk and about how committed i am. That’s now engraved on my soul. i don’t need a reminder. i want to remember *His* sacrifice. i want to remember that feeling in my heart, where it felt as if He dwelt inside it. i want to remember that despite His wounds, despite all the betrayal He has experienced, that He continues to “show up”, day after day.

i want to remember how tender He is. i already know how strong He is. i want to remember how open He is. i already know how Dominant and charismatic He is. i want to remember how fragile His heart is; i’m well aware of His strength, physically and emotionally. i want to remember how generous He is; i already understand and truly enjoy what “demands” He makes of me.

Master’s always saying how lucky He is…”How did i get so lucky,” he asks. It’s not random. It’s not even ultimately about our timing, our being in the “right place at the right time.” No, it’s an agreement. It’s not luck. In the ceremony, Master spoke of how within minutes of our reuniting at the meeting in June at the old Space, we were reconnected. But we didn’t speak of it in the moment. It’s not as if we said, “ok….GO!” And then we had a verbal agreement. It wasn’t verbal. It was emotional…an energetic reconnect. That first night, when we re-met, Master and i were sitting in His car after the Space closed (kicked out it was so late!) i put my hand on His heart. It meant more than one thing. It meant “i love you – always have, always will.” It meant, “Yes.” And it was an agreement. An agreement of trust and faith.

So the collar is the physical manifestation of those agreements. And the collaring *ceremony* is the witnessing of those agreements in a public, community, and familial setting. In the presence of those who can understand the risk, we pledged our commitment. Every time i touch this collar, *i* pledge to remember the risks, the sheer emotional nakedness. Forever, i pledge to keep sacred our agreements. i will live this pledge. i will make Him see, hear, feel, taste and know with every cell in His body that *He* is safe. He can be Himself. i will demonstrate my agreement, so that no words of agreement are necessary. i will, with every day, show Him that the risk was right to take. Someday, if i have lived my life with care and intention, He will realize that it is *i* who have given *Him* wings, so that *He* may fly. And He will never fear falling, not ever again. My love shall make Him strong and safe.

As you all know, we weren’t interested in an elaborate affair for the collaring. If i could have had a piece of music play though, it would have been the following. If i am fortunate and work hard, perhaps there shall be another context, another agreement, another “gathering” at which i will have the opportunity to play this song.

Until then, Master, i shall build Your wings.

And i love you.

Agreements

 

Lyrics by Jon Anderson

Watching the world

From our window of life

Can we see all there is

That is real

That is right

To the distance so far

From our true understanding

Making us want more

Making us see less

 

The fire

Making me clean

Making me fly

Spinning me ’round

Spinning me ’round

 

The fire within your eyes

This mystic time

I’ve known before

Once before

The flame within my heart

Agreements made

Are now realized

Like before

Agreements of Trust

Agreements of Faith

Agreements of Truth

Agreements of Liberty

 

Speaking of worlds

Driven far far apart

How the innocence

Crushes the nature of things

To the point that we lose

All we’re trying to gain

Making us want more

Making us see less

 

The fire

Making us clean

Making us fly

Spinning us ’round

Spinning us ’round

 

The fire within your eyes

This mystic time

I’ve known before

Once before

The flame within my heart

Agreements made

Are now realized

Like before

Agreements of Trust

Agreements of Faith

Agreements of Truth

Agreements of Liberty

 

The fire

Making us clean

Making us fly

Spinning us ’round

Spinning us ’round

 

The (fire) flame

Making us clean (dream)

Making me fly

Spinning me ’round

Spinning me ’round

 

Agreements of Trust

Agreements of Faith

Agreements of Truth

Agreements of Love

Agreements of Liberty

Agreements set you free

Under the Power of Love

 

‘

What my collaring (and collar) will mean to me

i know some of you have been waiting with bated breath for this post, ever since Master’s announcement to the list that there would be a collaring ceremony on the 20th.  i’m never one to disappoint, so here we have it, in all of it’s wordy, heady, m-like glory  

At the end of 2006, i took some time to reflect on the past year and look ahead into the next…i am *not* one for the traditional New Year’s celebration and my Holiday Celebration ™ is decidedly unique.  i cull the best elements from all sacred traditions and make them mine. About the *only* way New Year’s and Christmas make sense to me is to see where you are in the year relative to everything else.  The longest night of the year is perfect for introspection.  We stand with one foot on one side of the threshhold of one year, the other poised in the next.  i always make a wish or say a prayer or announce an intention – call it what you will.  One of my favorite terms is “wishcraft”.  You launch a dream but you’re not disconnected from it – you’re still responsible for making it come true.

In December of 2006, i stood on the threshhold and wished. For healing. That i might take better care of myself. That i might develop better judgment, since i had put my soul in the wrong hands more than one too many times.  And then i let the wish go; i kept the intention in my heart, though.

As the Winter melted into the Spring, i saw the slow metamorphosis of my life.  By late Spring, i felt ready to launch myself back into the community i’d turned my back on in 2005, when i slipped into a relationship, that looking back, i can really only value in the category of “What Not to Do Evar, Evar Again. Evar.”  i’d wished for discernment.  Please, i thought, don’t ever let me go there again. Please let me have developed some sense!

By early June, i was at one of those proverbial forks in the road.  This path or that one?  i had what i perceived at the time a choice between two relationships.  Ironically one was not a choice at all, and would have closed the door on one that had been waiting for so long.  i meditated on this “choice”.   It really was a choice…i just wouldn’t have gotten anything at all, had i chose the other direction…and the other person.  i consulted my heart…i consulted my brain (who was quite surprised to even be brought into such a thing as a decision that had only been a decision of the heart before)…. and i consulted friends.  Funny thing is, nobody had any good suggestions.  They all turned Socratic on me, pivoting my question on it’s center to say things such as, “Well, m, what do you *really want*?  Which person most closely embodies your values and your interests?”  It was fair; these were mostly vanilla friends who’d not even met the two people in question.

Well, after a fair amount of deliberation and being quiet with my indecision… a small voice i can’t even identify the source of nudged me in the direction i felt the most scared to make.  ”Is this what discernment feels like?!” i remember thinking.  i thought discernment would feel solid, like a Supreme Court Justice’s judgement.  If only it were that easy; instead it was much more subjective, despite my brain being involved.  It asked me yet more questions:  is this the person you can see spending time with you?  How many years do you want out of this type of relationship?  Do you want something that takes into account the whole you?  Is there anything you are not willing to give up for either of these two Dominants?  Who can you imagine being collared by – forever?

::sigh::  Forever is a long, long time.  i thought about what was important to me…what parts of me had been shut down before in all the other relationships, vanilla and lifestyle.  i thought critically for a bit about temperament, age, mutual interests…and finally had to trust that people don’t arrive smack dab in one another’s paths with the timing that one of these Dominants and i had…without there being “something else” going on.  Can’t speculate on what that something else was…but when i thought about the Dominant to whom i could see myself collared to forever…if i was *really honest* with myself… i knew it could only be Master Ron. 

 And so here we are, poised now *together* – with our feet on either side of a threshhold.  Here is what my collar and my collaring ceremony will mean to me.

i already wear a collar – as often and as long as i possibly can.  It’s pretty hard-core, so i’m not traipsing to work with it on (though i have been known to bring it with me in the car and have it near me on hard days – a real comfort).  i also wear a necklace that i consider a “place-holder” – a heart/lock pendant that is a physical and visual reminder of the other collar.  i stopped wearing other necklaces in June.  Funny thing is, this week i’ll be wearing those necklaces in a conscious resonance with the end of my “old life,” to acknowledge from whence i came and that everything before the collar is to be honored, as it brought me to where i am now.

 When i don my collar (whether Master puts it on me or i put it on myself in the evenings i am physically away from Him), i take a moment to be conscious.  i never do it “while moving” – seriously, i have had to stop myself from doing that! – i kneel, i kiss the TSR slave registration tag, and the buckle. The symbolism here is this: i bless and acknowledge that i am owned and bound.  i then put on the collar.

This is a sweet and grounding ritual, one that is sure to persist while we are together, Master and i, since this is the *practical* collar – the strong leather collar with the D- and O-rings that allows for restraint, the leash, etc.  So the other collar is far from being retired anytime soon.  i’m not sure what will be required of me in terms of sleeping in the old collar anymore…but chances are i’ll put it on anyway, since i’d feel as if something was missing if i did not.  It helps me to not feel so alone when i am apart from Master in household #1.  i call my apartment that now, in my head. Can’t just call it “home,” because it’s not my only home.  i feel as if i spend almost as much time at Master’s home as in my apartment, and i contribute as much in heart, body and soul to his household as i possibly can.  i always regret leaving there because inevitably i feel i’ve left something undone.  Such is life!

 But back to the collar.  What will it mean?

i think there is both personal and spiritual symbolism involved.

Spiritually, it is several things: The Great Hoop, Infinity, The Alpha and the Omega.  It is a ring, and it bears all the symbolism, like a wedding ring does, of that shape.  As the Great Hoop, it is the Medicine Wheel:  (from www.blessingscornucopia.com) “

The Medicine Wheel is circle that symbolizes all of life and the lives of individual beings as they express the power of the world through harmonious movements, and, as they are nourished by the spiral of constant circular motion of the wheel of Spirit.”

So therein, i find my place, i am the conduit for energy through my own harmonious movements, constantly uplifted and nourished by Spirit, by the act of serving and by the love of my Master.

i’m a serious sucker for the following explanation of the symbolism of the circle, since it encompasses infinity, union, the Uroboros and MATH. Really, whut cud be bettar? :

(From http://www.math.dartmouth.edu/~matc/math5.geometry/unit9/unit9.html#Symbolism)

 ”The circle is the symbol for infinity, because the circle is endless, and may be considered a polygon with an infinite number of sides.

The snake or dragon with its tail in its mouth continually devouring itself and being reborn from itself is a symbol of eternity and of the cyclic nature of the universe. It expresses the unity of all things, which never disappear but change form in a cycle of destruction and re-creation.

It is also the alchemical symbol for chemical change. A dream about this serpent gave the chemist von Stradonitz the notion of the benzene ring, in the 19th century.”

i think that’s all pretty straightforward, little to add. This relationship and my service to Master becomes sacred in the context of the collaring, without beginning or end…the collar transforms me (in every positive sense: like the transmutation of lead to gold) and also in my new life, i am reborn, redefined.

It matters very little to me that the collar only goes on *me* (as opposed to some matching item for Master) in the conferring of a collar such as mine (www.eternitycollars.com)…  i consider there to be profound responsibility in the giving of a permanent collar such as this.

An important note for those who do not know: it locks on with an allen wrench.  i couldn’t be more thrilled.  Master considered monkeying further with the lock (glue i think!) so that it truly couldn’t be removed but we discussed it and acknowledged that it would be very sad to have to have the thing cut off if i had to have, for example, an MRI.

So responsibility: the Master who permanently collars His slave/property/beloved with this kind of collar…He does not do it lightly.  The very nature of the collar implies love and protection without end. That’s serious (thank you Captain Obvious)!  The submissive dreams of being collared…for some, in an almost princess-y, foo-foo kind of way.  And yes, there is a touch of that for me; i’d be lying if i didn’t say that this is an honor and something i’d been dreaming of for many years – just as a concept!

But it has to sink down and be grounded in something far less abstract than “My Dom in Shining Armor Is Here!” for it to be something grown-up and sustainable.  To be given a permanent collar is to imply that that period of consideration is passed now.  The considering has been done.  Things have been evaluated.  The likelihood of long-term success has been held up beside the rough passion and compared.  That the permanent collar should be conferred implies not absolute certainty in outcome, but an idea of what is to come… a softening of reserve, becoming less conservative in one’s attachment.  It implies that a foundation of trust and communication has been laid, upon which years of growth will rest.

There is a certain degree of “I’ll take care of my property” implied by the Master who permanently collars his slave…but on our end, i’m quite sure it follows quite a sustained period of my demonstrating that my most profound desire is to take care of *Him*.

Is a collaring like a wedding?  Yes.  And no.  It *is* like a wedding because it celebrates a union and a commitment.  But it is very specific.   The collaring says, “We pledge to look after this very special part of our relationship, a part *so* special that it deserves this one-pointed attention.”  It publically acknowledges the underlying “meta-structure” of our relationship.  He is Master. i am slave.  i submit to His will, but He pledges to keep my well-being (mind, body and spirit) in mind forever.  i surrender, He welcomes me as deep as anyone will ever go into His mind, body and spirit.  i am committed to His happiness because His happiness is none-different than mine.  And so the power and love flow…in a circle, in the Great Hoop, infinite without beginning or end. 

Without beginning…for me, what that means is this: at the moment Master secures the Eternity Collar about my neck, it heals us.  Without beginning means the power of who we are together reaches back into our pasts and heals those broken places.  It puts parts of us back together previously rent by time and the ravages of past pain.

Without end…this is surely the easiest to grasp:  no matter what, we pledge that nothing shall come between us. The two ends of the collar seal together and thus seal out those things which would threaten to pull us apart. Our commitment is the glue   We pledge that this relationship is the foundation that makes everything else possible, and that it is impervious to negative change, promoting only positive transformation.

From a Buddhist standpoint, it is the Dharma wheel, spreading the teaching (and lessons) of right living without end. From a Pagan point of view, it is the wheel of the year and the sacred circle in which magic is worked and inside of which one is afforded magical protection.

Lastly, yes it is like a wedding ring… of course.  But the collaring ceremony is *unlike* the wedding in some crucial ways:

1) weddings are frequently stupidly lavish production numbers for the benefit of family

2) weddings satisfy a cultural requirement as a rite of passage into adulthood

3) weddings are frequently semi-religious affairs (instead of spiritual happenings) whether you want them to be or not!

4) weddings are often incredibly stressful events that don’t manage to properly honor the true spirit of the celebration: an ecstatic public acknowledgement of a relationship that already is a “union.”  Never mind all the people who have married for the wrong reasons!!

So no, this is not to be an elaborate affair.  It is not a rite of passage into adulthood because we don’t need one, not anymore.  Every day that we look after each other and make mature decisions about how to treat one another we initiate one another more deeply into being “grown-ups.”  Every time we don’t fight, we are grown-ups.  Every time we listen without judging, we are grown-ups. Every time we are self-less with each other we are grown-ups.  Every time we risk our hearts being shattered to bits we build trust and intimacy and that is at the very *heart* of maturity.  So no, we don’t need someone to tell us we’re grown-ups.  We’re getting there quite well on our own and someone else’s acknowledgement of it would be rather silly.

This is not a religious affair.  We do not need someone to officiate as a go-between us and the universe.  We experience life raw, with no signal interference, no filter, in all it’s messy glory. We may be winging it, but we get all the goodies of an experiential relationship with spirit, the universe, whatever you want to call it.  i don’t need a referree, thanks very much.

And neither Master nor i would ever want to create some Bugsby-Berkely musical extravaganza – if it needs blocking and more than an hour’s worth of rehearsal, *WE’LL* be bored, never mind the attendees.

That doesn’t mean i don’t find the idea of getting married and a wedding attractive;  all i know is that Master and i will continue to define what feels right to us.  We will opt for the most authentic and direct experience of life with one another that we can.  The collaring is but one moment, a shining one, to be certain.  But more than looking forward to the collaring, i look forward to long life, good health and the incalculable blessing of being able to serve and love Him with every breath for as many days as i will have…that’s called Karma Yoga – the Yoga of living, doing.

It’s what will make putting in the tulips and the hyacinths in the front yard so special to me next weekend.  It’s what makes getting Master’s coffee such a pleasure.  It’s all those ordinary moments strung together that over a lifetime, well…. that’s not a bore.  That’s extraordinary.  A long slow fire burns the longest.

May we be warmed by it all of our days.

Thank You Master.  i love You.

m

i’m a little bit country….

I’m pretty sure that there’s something about hormones that makes me like Country music. That’s the only reasonable explanation. Srsly. The last time i listened to Country music was when i was pregnant with my son in the late 80s through when he was about 3 years old. Then something happened and i discovered Industrial music and that dalliance was over…until now.

Now before anyone gets up in arms and thinks i’m pregnant, let me kill that thought right there. Not now, not ever again. i have two beautiful children and i pour my life and heart into them and would not dream of diluting my time, energy or resources to bring an unwarranted third being into the world.

So why am i listening to Country music? Why is Country 92.5 the first pre-set in my car?? (Well partly because i’ve taken a hiatus from listening to things to the left of there on the dial, like NPR, but that’s another story….)

The truth is that Country music is full of songs where people wear their heart on their sleeves…songs about intense devotion and love…songs about the realization of basic goodness imminent in people and nature…songs about putting it all into perspective.

Have i lost my mind? Don’t think so. On this, the third month anniversary of my collaring, i have profound gratitude in my heart. i know where Home is. i know i can handle anything with my Master’s love and guidance. Here’s who’s providing the soundtrack of this glorious and yet simple path i tread:

God Bless the Broken Road

by Rascal Flatts

I set out on a narrow way, many years ago
Hoping I would find true love
along the broken road
But I got lost a time or two
Wiped my brow and kept pushing through
I couldn’t see how every sign
pointed straight to you

[ Chorus: ]
Every long lost dream
Leads me to where you are
Others who broke my heart
They were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way
Into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you.
yes it did

I think about the years I spent
just passing through
I’d like to have the time I lost
and give it back to you
but you just smile and take my hand
You been there, you understand
It’s all part of a grander plan
that is coming true.

[ Chorus ]
Every long lost dream
Lead me to where you are
Others who broke my heart
They were like northern stars
Pointing me on my way
Into your loving arms
This much I know is true
That God blessed the broken road
That led me straight to you.
yah

Now I’m just rolling home
into my lovers arms
this much i know is true
that God blessed the broken road
that led me straight to you

That god blessed the broken road
that led me straight to you

*******************************

By now you’re probably groaning. Go ahead. But when i heard this today i couldn’t help but be struck by it’s truth. Master and i have frequently wondered what would have happened if we’d met sooner…if our first “go round” in 1999 could have led to something permanent as this one has…. And honestly, i keep thinking, no. It couldn’t have. There’s something along that broken road that was necessary. i bless the people in my life who helped me grow up along the way. i am humbled by the pain i caused others, as well. There were so many growing pains. There’s a lot more grey hairs, that’s for darn sure (*note to self – buy hair dye!*). But every experience, every broken heart, every dream that came unraveled tempered my being. i wouldn’t be the person i am now without those people or those hardships. So God bless that broken road, God bless it, for here we stand.

And:

So Small – Carrie Underwood

[Yeah, Yeah]

What you got if you ain’t got love
the kind that you just want to give away
It’s okay to open up
go ahead and let the light shine through
I know it’s hard on a rainy day
you want to shut the world out and just be left alone
But don’t run out on your faith

[Chorus]
‘Cause sometimes that mountain you’ve been climbing is just a grain of sand
What you’ve been up there searching for
forever is in your hands
When you figure out love is all that matters after all
It sure makes everything else
seem so small

It’s so easy to get lost inside
a problem that seems so big at the time
it’s like a river thats so wide
it swallows you whole
While you sit around thinking about what you can’t change
and worrying about all the wrong things
time’s flying by
moving so fast
you better make it count ’cause you can’t get it back

Sometimes that mountain you’ve been climbing is just a grain of sand
What you’ve been up there searching for
forever is in your hands
When you figure out love is all that matters after all
It sure makes everything else
Seem so small

Sometimes that mountain you’ve been climbing is just a grain of sand
What you’ve been up there searching for
forever is in your hands
When you figure out love is all that matters after all
It sure makes everything else
Oh it sure makes everything else
Seem so small

[Yeah, Yeah]

*************************************************************

This is the song that came on the radio when i was feeling utterly defeated about a very stressful condition in my life. i was very worried and anxious about this matter, and just as i was getting into town this song came on…i know you’ve had that happen, like the cosmic DJ’s doling out advice straight into your receiver in your car…it’s spooky and cool when it happens and it’s one of the reasons i love radio and popular music. Nothing new under the sun, and some poor sap’s already been feeling what you’re feeling – it’s the human condition.

So this song was totally therapy for me. It made me realize that regardless of the temporary stress i had in my life that i was already standing tall at the crest of my greatest accomplishment: finding my place in the world. From here, yes, there are problems, but compared to the magnitude of love, the sacredness of my surrender to Master, the rightness of place and home, the preciousness of family…as i pulled into the driveway, the sobs of relief came, and i *knew* i had been wasting precious time and energy on something *so small*. After that, i turned a corner. Home became a feeling i wrapped around me such that even in my apartment i felt the thread of devotion and peace leading me to be a better person. i used to share that apartment with someone who didn’t appreciate me; miraculously Master’s appreciation of me actually reaches back in time to heal that part of me that resented living in my apartment. Used to be angry words hung about like ghosts and spoiled my home, long after the departure of my previous partner. Now i can bless him and wish him well and my home is my home…because Master loves me and i am His.

Lastly, this is a song about the imminence of love and how not even physical separation dilutes that love. Master and i don’t share a home full time yet and i’ve so often felt intense pain at that separation…but the longer Master and i are together (ironically) the easier the separation is to bear. This is for a number of reasons: i know we’ll be living together as of sometime in June, and that means i have something to look forward to, but that’s the top-note in my happiness, not the sole peg i hang it on. Something else is going on, a certainty about where we are in the process of becoming united…

This song speaks to that sweet certainty…the precious feeling of being cherished even when we’re apart, i can feel Master’s heart…i know i am His most precious one…and that He is always with me…..[verses snipped for length - this is not the whole song].

I’m Already There – Lonestar

[snip]

I’m already there
Take a look around
I’m the sunshine in your hair
I’m the shadow on the ground
I’m the whisper in the wind
I’m your imaginary friend
And i know i’m in your prayers
Oh i’m already there

[snip]

I’m already there
Don’t make a sound
I’m the beat in your heart
I’m the moonlight shining down
I’m the whisper in the wind
And i’ll be there until the end
Can you feel the love that we share
Oh i’m already there

We may be a thousand miles apart
But i’ll be with you wherever you are

I’m already there
Take a look around
I’m the sunshine in your hair
I’m the shadow on the ground
I’m the whisper in the wind
And i’ll be there until the end
Can you feel the love that we share
Oh i’m already there
Oh i’m already
There

**********************************************

Yes, you are there. Wherever i am, You are, since i keep You in my heart. Your love for me permeates my whole world. Your love makes me kneel before You, ever Your vessel and most prized possession. Your love propels me to accept peacefully all that must be done in my life. Your love inspires me to take better care of myself. Your love is the conduit for the single source of abundance of energy that there is in reality…and i take that love and give it freely to take care of everyone i love. Especially You, Master. Especially You.

Next month we’ll be celebrating another anniversary by creating an even more meaningful one, as You bestow upon me that greatest honor: the permanent collar. i’m thankful that all those broken roads lead both to this moment and to all moments hence…that because of You and Your love, everything else seems so small….and that when i touch that collar, that You’re already there, your love living in the Sacred Hoop, a tangible sign of Your indestructible love for me.

It is a sacred paradox that i cannot imagine being more devoted to You than i am right at this moment…but that every day the well of surrender, submission and love is deeper, sweeter and truer. Happy Anniversary…more to come.

Master Ron’s devoted slave girl,

~ m

The Vision Quest

i freely admit i ganked the Steven Foster quote at the end of this post from a buddy’s blog. i don’t think my buddy would understand my use of it, though…few would!

This excerpt below speaks to how i am inspired by serving my Master. The quote exemplifies what it feels like to wake up next to Him. Foster is correct: when the tears are streaming down my face, i do feel an upsurge of creative energy. i *do* feel empowered to be the best me that i can be. i have never had this many “a-ha!” experiences in my life, and i’ve treaded every path you can possibly imagine. It’s almost better than coffee for getting me out of bed in the morning. Hope. Inspiration. Illumination. All while washing a glass at the kitchen sink and looking out into the back yard (His back yard).

What if certain people fit like a key in a lock? What if there is no-one else in the world could make me feel this way? What if i nourish Him, as well, right into the very marrow of His bones, until He can’t even remember what sadness is any more? That would be ok i think.

i thank my Mom and Dad for giving me such a wonderful model of mutual service and love in their marriage. This weekend i realized i just hadn’t felt right in such a long, long time, not since my parents sold their house. i feared my life had ended in a way, when that happened; who would garden? Who would decorate? Who would cook? Who would pour so much heart into the home that the home itself seemed almost alive? i thought it could only be there, at my parents’ home. And i mourned the loss of that place for such a long time, not ever thinking there could be another place like it? How could there be?

Then, while washing a glass in His kitchen, i realized. i nearly dropped the glass. Silly slave tears fell on the glass. i recognized the feeling. i had to reach for it, it was almost un-get-able, tucked somewhere disused and inaccessible. “What is this feeling?” i thought. It’s more than just home. Home is where He is, and that was no giant revelation. It was something else, and it *was* a revelation.

It was more somehow a whole family of associated feelings: home, peace, usefulness, right-ness and of assuming a deeply-valued *place* in a home…that last one could be seen as pre-mature, since i won’t be moving in till next Summer…but this feeling had less to do with some arbitrary time-table and more to do with internal ready-ness, something being passed down from Mother to Daughter. Mom’s never going to cook a big Thanksgiving day dinner again, more than likely. Mom’s never going to drag a live Christmas tree in the house and decorate it. Mom’s done with PTA, and almost done with volunteer work. But i’m not, i’m just beginning, in a way.

i have *never* had the urge to go plant things in the yard, not when i was living with my parents and no-where else. Now i’m combing over perennial preferences in my head. i want to invest my sweat in this household of His. i want it to work like such a well-oiled machine no-one ever remembers what stress was ever like. i want every holiday to be magical, such as it was for me.

i want a HOME where all know their place and nestle into knowing they can be themselves and *also* grow. It can’t be wine and roses all the time. But wine and roses help… and He makes me want to plant the roses and pour the wine. This *is* my life’s work. It’s not the sum total. i have so much writing to do, so much teaching. All this i see, in my vision quest…some trials are not ordeals so much as they are endurance runs…washing one glass, while waxing poetic upon the rising sun? Meh, that’s nice. Washing 30,000 glasses and feeling that same love every day for the next forty years? Bring it on. If Mom can do it, so can i.

Vision Quest

The vision you seek, and need, can be many different things.
Vision is wisdom.
Vision is insight into the nature of things.
Vision is the ability to see the future.
Vision is the ability to dream.
Vision is the surging upward of personal creative energy.
Vision is one’s life work.
Vision is a marrow-deep feeling,
a knowing,
a recognition of self,
a realization of what you can do.
Vision is transcendent, mystical knowledge – cosmic consciousness.
Vision is the sight of the sun rising in the East
to answer the hope that another day will come.
Vision is a series of “ahas!” about what your life has been
and could be.

(The Book of the Vision Quest – Steven Foster)

Something is returning to me…

Something is returning to me. No, that isn’t it either. i think i am acquiring that which has never been mine, and it is extraordinary.

This morning as overcast light diffused through my blinds i awoke, blessedly before the alarm went off. The last bits of a dream ran through my fingers like silk slipping quietly to the floor. i do remember; well i remember enough. i remember a secret school, a student and an admonishment to keep the mystery. Hovering at roof-top level, my self watched my other-self, seated at a student’s chair-desk, the kind that belongs in a classroom. i sat demurely with my legs to the side in my school-girl skirt, facing the bespectacled teacher with her dark hair up-swept, white blouse with plunging neckline and pencil skirt. Surely she is another other-self, initiating me even as she put her manicured index finger to her ruby lips to implore me to be silent.

This is the season, you know. This is the season of the Greater Mystery at Eleusis, where man, woman, child and slave alike made the pilgrimage from Athens, through Epidavros, all the way to Eleusis. There they sacrificed, danced, perhaps partook of the ancient food of the God(desses) that cracked open their hearts and minds. Who then got to look in Demeter’s basket? What was in it? It matters less to me today what they saw. i am being initiated into my own mystery school. It asks of me surrender, quiet and trust. It asks for the sacrifice of my own comfort, it asks of me the sacrifice of my cherished ideas of who i am as well as the sacrifice of who i was, so that i may truly be transformed.

There at Eleusis, they celebrated the return or rebirth of Persephone, she who was spirited away by the dark lord of the Underworld, Hades. Persephone tread the ordeal path, was tempted enough to eat those four pomegranate seeds…and become the Princess of Darkness, if only for four months out of the year. In August, she would re-emerge into the arid Mediterranean landscape, birthed out of the stone grotto where offerings were lain. i have stood there. i stand there now. i will always stand there.

Eleusinian Mystery

 

After walking through endless rows

of time-toppled columns and pediments,

(no trace of outrageous ritual here),

After the museum, silent but for the

drone of a single, grimy, over-taxed fan,

(Demeter’s treasures neatly stacked),

I emerge to the outside, to cicadas,

faint music, the scent of tomatoes ripening,

(one Eleusinian cat, dozing in the shade),

to the reflected brightness of noon,

ubiquitous dust older than memory,

(it was here that they danced),

Then, quite by accident,

the humble grotto below:

Not quite even a cave, dim and cool

with afternoon shadow, filled

with tiny niches smoothed

by the countless fingers, the

devoted hands of sisters without number.

The offerings eluded the casual eye:

the small sheaves of wheat,

placed with care,

the tiny terra cotta urn

of fragrant unguent,

the fragile blude wildflowers

bound by a pale pink ribbon,

the Delphic honey,

in a small tightly sealed jar,

all here, where the earth heaved open

to swallow Persephone

at Hades’ command.

Who is appeased here?

No priest sets foot here,

no rosary is said.

But a Virgin, beloved,

remembered, remains.

copywrite m August 2007

**********************************************************************

i was at Eleusis in about 1987. i’ve never felt a place quite so resonant.

i know i am in a period of initiation. Nothing’s felt quite like this before. It’s amazing but i know that my submission, surrender and quantum commitment to this relationship are changing me. Pain, letting go, service and above all, Love. This is star-hot crucible that burns away the me that used to be. i am desperate to be nakeder and nakeder, eventually be the shiny true bones of my best and realest self.

i offer up everything of no use. i offer up complaints and doubt. i offer up self-abuse like not getting enough rest (oh that is an old, tough broad of a Dragon – dare you, DARE you all to do the same!), not being focused, giving in to agitation, self-deception…. and more. i still cling to certain things: righteous indignation – oh she holds on for dear life, so deep are her justifications; denial and culpability – they are sisters who don’t even have one eye between them – the third sister, intoxication still has it, and she’s not givin’ it up.

So i put it all in the crucible. Turn on the starlight. Burn through to the center. Hang me up in the Sundance. Throw another hot-rock in the sweat lodge. Tighten the bonds. Hit me harder. Hit me again. Don’t stop.

Ever.

The exquisite pain of separation…

I thought I was alone who suffered

Says Farid,
I thought I was alone who suffered.
I went on top of the house,
And found every house on fire.

Baba Sheikh Farid

This week, there are a slew of posts on TSR about separation and sub-drop, as if everyone’s going through the same thing at the same time…i wonder about the resonance of entire communities, moving in socio-emotional waves, enduring the collective tides of comings and goings…. Or, simply put, it’s August. People go away on vacation, sneak last bits of summer in before September presses against them like a big hand saying, “No…..”

Slaves, subs and property alike seem to be yearning for their Masters, who’ve departed by every method of egress possible….saddlebags are packed by one slave whose Master rolls away on his purring motorcycle, giving a final wave to the slave at the window….The rest of us seem to suffer a more prosaic fate; it was only while i was driving home today after work that i realized that Master had driven Himself to the airport and i’d neither offered to take Him, nor had He asked me to. i made a mental note to do so next time. i don’t know which would be a greater challenge, though: driving down the highways as one’s Master is alighting in a plane that you’ve not even waved goodbye to, or spending time driving Him to the airport and seeing Him off. Both have their poignancies and challenges.

i was patting myself on the back on Sunday, as i left Master’s house smiling, no trace of the sub-drop that had plagued me the prior week. “Good!” i thought egotistically, “i must be making progress, feeling more secure.” What bullshit on my part. All those feelings for good or ill are neutral and not to be judged. What opportunities the ego will take to puff itself up! Then today, as Master texted me just as He was boarding the plane, it happened. i felt overcome with emotion. i can’t say it was the content of the text message. i think it was the fact that i was facing that for the first time, not only would we be separated, but it would be separation that would be temporarily without remedy.

When i had an attack of Diverticulitis about a month or so ago, Master dropped everything and met me at the emergency walk-in clinic, coloring with my daughter so that i could relax and see the doctor. From then on i knew that i was protected…that if i really needed Master, that He would try to help me…. It was a lovely feeling…the feeling of a net beneath me for the first time in forever, it seemed. So though we don’t share the same home full time (yet) and we’re separated by 25 minutes of driving, it’s not been something that couldn’t be fixed by hopping in the car.

This business trip, though, is different. As i put my head on my desk and cried (and thanked my lucky stars that there’s a lot of privacy down at my end of the cube farm) i didn’t know why i felt so torn. i just did. i felt like a Who in Whoville, with no Tree and no Roast Beast. And then i realized that if Master’s on a plane, if Master is far away…. then for the first time, (and yes, i *know* intellectually that it is TEMPORARY!) Master cannot reach me. The leash can’t reach literally from Hartford to San Francisco…. and if my world caves in, He can’t be here in a half an hour. This knowledge i bore gravely. For someone who despises drama, i can generate it pretty damn well, dontcha think?

Separation from the Holy Beloved as a theme in sacred literature has a very rich history, with many Sufi (esoteric Islam seekers) poems addressing the sweet misery of the perceived separation. Vedic writing and philosophy suggests that God’s gone out of His way to create the illusion of separation so that he can experience, through his creations, the holy pain of sweet pining.

Right now i’m feeling about as holy as a blemish on the behind of God. The dishes are still dirty in my sink (in my hot kitchen, too hot to approach until later) and i have an attitude problem. i know the cures: there are two, actually. One i’m just not going to be able to get until Master comes home and i’m in His arms, enveloped in the soft, strong warmth of His embrace – to merely be held, that most gentle of “resets” – that would do it. i can easily re-center myself under that condition.

The other cure is harder. It’s a lot less glamorous and i fight it every time. i must re-frame my mentality such that i am in alignment with the greatest good for Him and for me…without any of the lush currents of endorphins running through my veins…it’s so mundane it almost makes me ache….Now would be a great time to get some chocolate, if only for the Serotonin-like lift…but even that would be temporary.

Now is the time for self-care…for a cool shower and an early bedtime…i imagine that i’ll dip through the rip-tides of sub-drop several more times before His return. i’ll question my ability to cope without Him. i’ll growl at the dishes, the laundry and the child-detritus in the living room, and the fact that the light fixture in the bathroom is well-nigh impossible to unattach to replace the burnt-out bulb now that my nails are so long……

But i’ll remember that walking the walk in a 24/7 relationship, in a committed co-habitation or a marriage makes this look like child’s play and then i’ll kick myself in the butt. i’ll put on the music that lifts me up, and i’ll flex the slave muscles, and do what needs to be done. Time passes without any help from anyone….

Just this afternoon as i drove home, thinking of Master’s plane lifting off, i wanted it so much to be Sunday…and then following that i wanted it so much to be the following weekend…and then, true to form, i wanted it to be that moment in time when Master and i are living together. Then, unbidden, as often the wise voices are, on some tachyon stream there came a message from the future:

“Do you have any idea how fortunate you are right now? You are at the beginning. Yours is the perfect feast laid out before you, in between the moment grace is said and partaking begins. *I* dwell at the end. I look back. I have already tasted; the feast is past. Trust me, you do not want to wish yourself one *second* toward the future, for the faster you get there, the sooner it will be over. Savor. Appreciate. Wait on the Sovereign of your Heart. Inside the irritation of waiting, inside the impatience and craving is the present and you do not see its value. Hold *on*. See the beauty of the beginning. Know the preciousness and spaciousness of being apart for soon enough you will not know what its even like anymore. No step on the journey is worth more than another.”

i’m scared at how wise she is, that me-of-the-end-time. The price for her wisdom is terrible; her insights are like beautiful scars. But i can settle down, be at peace, and listen to her. And know there is no-one more worthy of my accepting the exquisite pain of separation than my Master.

My Beloved, this torture and pain

My Beloved, this torture and pain
I suffer because I am so addicted to Your Beauty.
People ask me whether I prefer Your
company to being in heaven.
Heedless fools, what would heaven itself mean
without the Friend’s Presence?

Abu-Said Abil-Kheir

“Your own…personal…Jesus”

Here’s what was mercifully on 105.9 The River’s 80s at eight this morning – thanks guys…i needed this (and when i’m not so tired i’ll go and see if i can plug in code for a flash MP3 player so i can play the music along with giving You the lyrics:)

Depeche Mode: Personal Jesus

“Reach out and touch faith.”

Your own personal jesus
Someone to hear your prayers
Someone who cares
Your own personal jesus
Someone to hear your prayers
Someone who’s there

Feeling unknown
And you’re all alone
Flesh and bone
By the telephone
Lift up the receiver
I’ll make you a believer

Take second best
Put me to the test
Things on your chest
You need to confess
I will deliver
You know I’m a forgiver

Reach out and touch faith
Reach out and touch faith

Your own personal jesus…

Feeling unknown
And you’re all alone
Flesh and bone
By the telephone
Lift up the receiver
Ill make you a believer

I will deliver
You know I’m a forgiver

Reach out and touch faith

Your own personal jesus

Reach out and touch faith

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

D/s as i live it is a spiritual practice. i don’t expect even one single other person to approach it the way i do, not even Master. It’s difficult to explain to people. How do i explain that i worship my Master as the Lord of my life but i don’t really view Him as “God” per se? That’s so clear to *me* that it doesn’t even bear explaining. But others have been downright skeeved out by the concept. But are the Christians out there who believe in transubstantiation really tasting blood at communion? O rly?? It’s a representation. It’s a vehicle. It’s a bridge you and your consciousness walk across because the energetic rewards are on the other side.

You can call those rewards whatever you please. Salvation. Perfect submission. It doesn’t matter. Even in Wicca, in the Great Rite, the High Priestess and High Priest are energetic *stand ins* for the Great Goddess and the Horned One (hmm, horned one…. does that explain my demon fetish?! Oh, why bother trying to figure that one out!!) The athame that descends into the chalice, does it or does it not pierce the universe? Is that the member of God penetrating the holy gate of the Goddess? It is if you think is, if that is where you place your consciousness.

So, under my Master’s feet, metaphorically or otherwise, i am in worship. As i prepare His food, my mind is gently held in the present moment so that i am mindfully preparing His nourishment. As i accept His discipline, my heart is renunciate, i forsake all others and i am only His. Though it is hard for me to trust and be transparent, i tell all, in confession. Less so my sins and more so my weaknesses, for these are the transgressions i feel the most guilty about… but also my feelings… My hopes are my prayers, and nakedly i lay them before Him… so that He may approve or remind me to live in the present, since sometimes my mind strays too far into past or future.

Each night, after i once again don the collar Master gave me, when i pick up the phone to call Master, i feel that rush of relief and of being His possession. This brings me peace and calms the anxieties of the day. No matter what i’ve endured that day, amongst the throngs of people and their petty dramas (sweaty llamas? couldn’t resist…it rhymed…), i *know* that if Master says i may call Him, that i can lay my burden before Him and be comforted. i don’t know if it feels that way to Him, as if i am laying down my burden… maybe some of the time….

To reach out and touch Faith – what a powerful thing. When Master takes me by the collar, by the wrist, by the hair, by whatever He wants, essentially, and says in that charismatic and velvety baritone, “MINE” – i know it is absolute. When He says He is never going to let go, i believe Him. And i wouldn’t have it any other way.

He is faithful, He is loyal and He owns me.

And healing light bursts through us both with the light of a thousand suns when we are close. my own personal Jesus? Eh. i kinda prefer my own personal Doctor. Who, that is.

The Best Companion Evar,

(and Modest, Too)

Master Ron’s slave girl,

~ m

~^~ Thank You Master ~^~

Ah, the virgin post.

It’s important for me to get something down on virtual paper, if only as a gesture.

The world may not get to see this side of Him, but my Master is the most loving, generous, open and trusting (and trustworthy) man i’ve ever known or will ever know.

It’s only right to start by acknowledging the gratitude in my heart for all that He does… this is a journey with two people’s steps, one next to the other, but He leads….. It’s just a construct, this meta-game we play, He and i. From this platform we experience things…it provides the structure that allows me to be open and trusting in a safe setting. Too often i’ve surrendered deeply in an unsafe or at least unwise setting… but never have i felt so safe while still pushing constantly up again my own edges, those places in me that are the boundary and outer limits of my discovered country…. beyond those edges lie the undiscovered country, the blow i didn’t know i could endure, the submission that does not destroy but actually enhances and honors my soul, the discipline i could not administer myself. In short, growth starts here.

i put my heart (and a whole lot more) in His hands. i can’t tell you how brutal those hands can be…astonishingly brutal – like a machine, sometimes, relentless, hard and direct… and yet those very hands are soft, miraculously agile and know how to bring m pleasure like no other, male or female ever has………..

i could go on and on…. but there would be no end to this entry………..

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utterly, forever, bound to His soul,

Master Ron’s slave girl m