Define Freedom

For this post, please read with the implied subject of "a girl". The one who wrote this wishes to remain unnamed, since it is not her name she wishes to draw attention to... but the concept of her piece. Thank you.

~ Is lead to the dancing sands by a shadowed Man, He turns and slips the free end of a thick tether about the kajira’s collar, knots it firmly. A slow deep breath causes soft curves to stretch up against gossamer silks; sheer fabric of rich scarlet adds a dramatic silhouette to the tall lanky girl.

~ Gasps as eyes discover a dark figure in the center of the sands. Fearful steps backward until leash snaps tight, the strap restricts her movement. Nails claw at the restraint as a whimper escapes her lips as the girl grapples to be free.

~ Kicks up sand to the unyielding configuration, anger begins to boil within her blood. Feet stomp in time to the tabors, furious movement of flushing flesh fights the rope, His silence mocks her struggle. Jeering tune of the kalika drowns out each enraged cry of cherry lips. Heels dig into the sands as she wrenches away from the leash with all her might against His hold!

~ Tumbles to the sands, long legs stretches towards her Captor. Cries out angrily and turns quick to primal stance of she-sleen, grunts through gritted teeth as she attempts to crawl away. Tether holds firm, dark One in the pits more stubborn than she. Each pant resonates beneath the light of torches. One by one, the echoes only revel in the desperation of the captured beast.

~ Rolls onto a bottom once more. Buries crimson toes in the warmth of the sands; red tipped fingers trail up the rough cord to the polished texture of blue steel collar that circles slender throat. Heart pounds within her head, its beat mimicked by the cadence of the kaskas in the distance. A mind races as amber orbs study the uncompromising Being before her.

~ Catches her breath as she comprehends He does not waiver. He does not submit. He stands tall and strong, constant and true. Indomitable figure resists her efforts, her own vulnerability sparks respect within the girl, rage melts away to consideration for the powerful One in the distance. Sooty lashes lower on their own accord.

~ Feels a warmth stain milky features beneath His unchanging presence. Breath comes short yet not from fear, from His steady attention. Lifts crimson pout into a gentle smile as the soft sound of a flute invade her thoughts and touches her soul. A joyful tear slips over a sculpted cheekbone as heart echoes the longing melody.

~ Unfurls to bare feet, bits of sand cling to creamy legs, stark against dark red silks. Fair form begins to sway left to right, fingertips began to gently explore silken flesh, traces curves and valleys of womanly contours. A head falls back as the girl allows herself to become intoxicated by the reassuring song of instruments. Laughter bubbles from her lips as a girl finally understands.

~ Lowers a gaze as the beast surrenders to the tether, drags air into lungs that burn as the anger washes away so that only a calm quiet remains. The cord now a welcomed weight in addition to the steel that marks her property of the Owner. A finger caresses the etching of twin dragons, a fiery creature to represent the newfound burn within.

~ Honey eyes upturned to the Priest Kings in exultation as the composition welcomes guiding hand of the Essence that grasps the end of the leash. Slender arms weave overhead; pulse of the music enslaves her heart as a body willingly conforms within the confines of the length of cord. Explorative touch of palms trails over softness of porcelain skin. hips roll beneath diaphanous silks.

~ Obeys the unspoken command of the figure before her, the rope an extension of his control over the girl as it draws her closer. Slack of the tether drapes against elegant curves, glides over ruby silks with each long-legged stride. Music guides her closer, body submits to His demands as the leash dances against silk clad form as she nears Him.

~ Collapses, tender knees sink a bit in the sands as weight shifts forward to palms. The disheartened girl crawls closer until fingers brush against the Figure before her. Mind reels with the realization it is not a Master, but a wooden pole. It offers neither abduction nor redemption.

~ Shakes head left to right as lips whisper ‘no no no’, tawny eyes search the sands for the immutable Man who called for her. The music stops abruptly, only soft pants linger in the air. A hand lifts to wrap the tether about delicate wrist, drinks in the strength of the leash, a forehead rests on outstretched arm as the she stills.

~ Screams ‘no!’ as fists pounds against the smoothness of the pole. Hands wrap high around the tether, pulling tight against it in frustration. The tie loosens from her collar and slips to the sands between silk clad thighs. Tears stream down flushed cheeks as she examines the end of the tether closely aware this restores her freedom. A sob rocks her body as head rolls forward broken hearted.

"The only freedom I would now desire," said Mira
"would be the freedom to be totally a slave."
~ Blood Brothers of Gor

Something about this girl's writing spoke to me, perhaps it is the concept that a person has the right to choose ~ whether to embrace who he/she is or to continue as he/she was. Perhaps it was the way she worked through the acceptance of who she truly is... Perhaps it is the decision to return to her position as a slave... Perhaps it is the image of a woman's place winning out in the end... Then again, it could be because of the mythical Man in the dance ~ unyielding and strong, confident and consistent. Yes, perhaps it is the mythical Him... He is one that I also long for.

Peace at last.

I can hear it, calling to me. I can feel it, coaxing me closer to that edge. Louder, faster, like waves of longing lapping at my soul. Needing to serve, the compulsion to please, craving that control that brings me to my knees and lifts my soul. Yielding to that primal act of service, peace begins to seep into my consciousness, draws me closer to the edge of release. Nervous energy thunders within my breast, intoxicating thoughts linger of the freedom within His bonds. I don’t have to think. I don’t have to respond. I don’t have to worry. I don’t have to do anything… but exist. Who I am, not who I try to be.

A woman.

A girl.

A submissive.

A slave.

The words flow from my dreams to my heart, across my soul back to my dreams. I can feel it in my heart. Giving way to the sounds of the waves, I can see it...

A smile beneath the moonlight, shoulders drop in submission as that peace washes over her. A simple touch to the tear streaked cheek confirms everything, not only for her but for himself also. He truly sees her, more than she was, beyond what she dreamed she could be. He sees it within her, stronger than potential, delicious connection whispered about in the heavens. The universe’s answer to the other’s prayers. All of that and more.

Her barrier crumbles, vulnerabilities revealed, finally free of the fear that kept her true self in hiding. Welcomed by his acceptance, drawn out by the pull of his mastery, skill of his dominance ~ much like the tides wash over the shore under the direction of the moon, she submits to His will. Her fate found within the beat of his heart ~ primal companion of her own. Influenced naturally His need. His direction. His love. She becomes His.

Peace at last.

Daddy ~ Please!

Daddy please, do something!!

Don’t just sit there and don’t make me go through this alone! You don’t understand Daddy, she might not be ok and nothing you can say will guarantee she will be!! Please Daddy, do something!

I’m scared, Daddy. I don’t want to loose her, I can’t loose her. How can I work without her? She’s the only reason I still have my job, she covers for me not only when I have family stuff going on but also when my FM acts up so badly I can’t do much. But not only that, she makes sure that I eat. She helps me keep my laundry up. She’s one of my very best friends, my very best vanilla friend. I feel like she is family, and I know that we aren’t kin but… in my heart… we are. I’m scared she doesn’t know what she means to me. I want her to know how much I love her and how much she has touched my life. What if she doesn’t know?? What if I’m not able to tell her?

No, I can’t go see her, I don’t think I can handle it. Seeing her laying there, tubes, IV’s, the oxygen mask… I can’t. And the last thing she needs is for me to fall apart in her hospital room. She told me she needs me to be strong so that her husband doesn’t loose it. So I’ve been strong when I call. But she doesn’t know that I fall apart when we hang up. I call everyday at least twice, and I also call her husband to see if he needs anything. I need to tell her… how can I tell her? The phone?! Dadddddy -- I can’t tell her on the phone BECUZZ once I get upset no one can understand a word I’m saying on the phone. Duh. Plus I need to remember her laughing, not the sound of her crying. I know she will cry, she cries every time I do.

DON’T PATRONIZE ME ~ quit saying that everything will be the way it will be, I know that I’m not stupid Daddy. I’m sorry Daddy I know you can’t fix it… there isn’t anything you can do to help her through this. Just help me through this. I know I seem like an adult most of the time but I need help. And now I won’t have it. Just do something please Daddy please do something!

God I’m so selfish. That family could be loosing a wife, a sister, a mother, a grandmother, a great-grandmother, and an aunt… and I’m worried about myself. They are loosing a column of their family and I'm worrying about not hearing her ringtime again... Daddy please... Don't make me go through this alone, Daddy please!

I don’t have anyone else I can trust 110% of the time. Pixie is there, of course, but she’s all the way over in another state. My parents don’t handle it at all when something is wrong with me, and Gracie (my sister) doesn’t do well either. I don’t want to be by myself again, I’m not strong enough to be, not right now…

Daddy… are you there?

Daddy… where are you?

Daddy?!

An Intimate look at Intimacy

Intimacy is based on shared vulnerability…nothing deepens intimacy like the experiences that we share when we feel flayed, with our skins off, scared and vulnerable, and our partner is there with us, willing to share in the scary stuff. -Dossie Easton and Catherine A. Liszt, The Ethical Slut

There are different definitions of intimacy. The immediate meaning of intimacy that comes to mind is being physically intimate with one’s partner. However, the more important interpretation, to this girl, is the development and continuation of emotional intimacy between a girl and her Sir. Yes, sexual intimacy is fun, but is about instant gratification which quickly fades once breathing returns to normal. There must be an attraction, wantonness, and physical need for the sexual act to be explosive.

However, emotional intimacy is much more delicate. It takes patience, dedication, and devotion to not only develop but maintain. Many different things can poke holes into the emotional status of a relationship, from basic mistakes to thoughtless decisions, this level of intimacy is extremely fragile.

To keep physical intimacy hot and fresh, both people enter into it as strong individuals coming together for sexual enjoyment. Confidence makes both people more attractive to the other person. But the ironic thing about emotional intimacy is that as fragile as it is to establish and persevere, both people must enter into it with defenses down. Completely vulnerable and defenseless, open to one other is the only way two people can connect on that level that defies separation.

So one can imagine, Sir, the damage those thoughtless decisions can do to this relationship. In one moment, all of that work can be undone by abandonment, a lie, a selfish act of forsaking one’s partner... Suddenly, when a person tries to reconnect to one’s partner, all that pain comes rushing back... To drown that lonely heart within that cries for the depths of submission it experienced before.

This can be fixed, but it takes time. A lot of time and even more dedication... from everyone involved.

Special Thanks to Sensual Service for the Journal Prompt.

Surrender

¤ Sometimes what seems like surrender, isn't surrender at all. It's about what's going on in our hearts. About seeing clearly the way life is and accepting it and being true to it, whatever the pain, because the pain of not being true to it, is far, far, greater. ¤ Tom Booker ¤

What would please you...

The girl begs, what would please you this night, Master?

Will you choose to bind her arms and legs, rob her of sight, and force absolute focus to be on you and you alone? The scent of your cologne lingering on her senses, only the sounds of her own desperate breathing can be heard.

The girl begs, what would please you this night, Master?

Will you choose to toy with the girl bound before you, demonstrate your superior strength with each pinch, slap, grab, and strike? Demand that the body jumps through figurative hoops for your amusement? The girl fights her bonds frantic to avoid contact as you break down walls with each lash of your tool. Your laughter and taunting fill her head as tears flow beneath the blindfold, the girl submitting her body to your administrations as you guide her to that place of emotional peace.

The girl begs, what would please you this night, Master?

Will you choose to tease the girl who lies before you, illustrate your control over her responses? Rouse rosey flesh to a tightened bud, transform painful whimpering to needful pants, lure bound limbs to struggle, arching the body to meet the touch it once tried to flee. Release her modesty with each caress, flick of tongue, and brush of lips as you use the girl in anyway you desire... until finally the girl wears your delight on her torso as a badge of her service to you.

The girl begs, what would please you this night, Master?

The girl can’t even begin to describe how a body aches for you. A fire beneath the skin flames out of control, kindled by thoughts of your control, your desires, and her service to complete those acts. Lying here alone, meditations draw the girl to a kneel... body bare before you, vulnerable flesh longs for your attention, head echoes in absolute silence because she has stilled her lungs in anticipation.

The girl begs... Please, Master; please... let it be me.

But tonight... your choice is to truly torture me. Lying here, tossing and turning in a lonely bed with only the sound of my own solitary movements. The very softness of a mattress and pillows mocking each shift I take as sleep escapes me. Greedy imagination pictures a hundred ways I may offer my service to you, yet a meek heart whispers that I obey your silent command. So I will lay here, Master, need boiling within, as your absence requires...

Yes Master, as it would please you this night.

"I exist for you," she said, "and it is what I want, to please and serve you." She was much in love. She wanted to give all of herself to him, irreservedly, to hold nothing back, to live for him, and, if necessary, to die for him. It is the way of the female in love, for whom no service is too small, no sacrifice too great, offering herself selflessly as an oblation to the master." ~ Magicians of Gor

Kinky Chicken or Submissive Egg?

"Masculinity and femininity are complementary properties," I told her. "If a man wishes a woman to be more feminine, he must be more masculine. If a woman wishes a man to be more masculine, she must be more feminine." ~ Explorers of Gor

This is one of my favorite concepts. I truly believe that changing the environment in which the behavior occurs can alter a behavior. I do this kind of thing at work, its amazing to watch how accurate it is. However, a recent conversation with my best friend has caused me to look at this through the power-exchange window.

I would like to examine this concept along with a Dominant/submissive relationship. Once the relationship and guidelines are established for the relationship, which comes next? Does he take the reigns and exert his mastery, causing the woman to fall at his feet in submission? Should the girl kneel before him in submission, igniting his mastery? The two concepts, her kneeling and his mastery, are domino effects that have strong dependence on one-another. But, which should come first?

My own experience states that there are days in which it will fluctuate between the two people. In the past, I have had days that I had to force myself to kneel and offer up a choice to the one (I felt) wasn’t holding up the dominant’s end of the deal. Yes there were also days that I had to be forced to my knees by some skilled mastering and brought back to that mental place that allows my submission to flow forth without obstruction.

Looking back... doing a, b, and c to get the responses I needed in the relationship is what held me there long past when it was over. Maybe that manipulation is what drug out the relationship past our ability to part as friends?

If the submissive steps up to the plate and demonstrates complete submission to the dominant and he responds, is she topping from the bottom? Or merely maintaining her role in the relationship without regard to the circumstances? If a dominant requires that the submissive does a, b, and c so that he can exert responses x, y, and z, how is he maintaining control? Is it unrealistic to require that a dominant hold onto the control all of the time, come hail or high water? Dominants are people too, and we all make mistakes. How can we, as submissives, expect mercy and guidance for our mistakes without granting the one we serve the ability to make them also? Growth occurs when we learn from our mistakes, and I don’t want a dominant that is stagnating in his own development.

Hmm…

Author's Note: This entry is assuming the dominant is male and the submissive
is female, although this debate will work no matter the gender of either person.