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Old 11-07-2008, 09:29 AM   #26
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I'd also like to chime in and say how much I've been enjoying this thread
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Old 11-07-2008, 09:46 AM   #27
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Eastern Sun
I love that you thought this thru and share your experiences... It made me think very much so about what he does that makes me feel as his slave...

I have been telling him for awhile if there were a submissive dictionary or word for the face I feel no more at peace and home when I am at his side on my knees serving him. I enjoy as you do the simple things in life as well as when he decides he wants something.. He is my life...

God I love this man..

thank you...
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Old 11-07-2008, 12:33 PM   #28
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Thank you

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you to everyone who has offered such gracious and supportive comments. I am so glad you are enjoying the thread.

He has asked me not to write during the day, since it offers too many distractions and opportunities for procrastination.

But I'm very grateful to him for letting me share these tender realities. I was a little bit concerned about his reaction, but he has enjoyed the opportunity to see inside my experience. And I have enjoyed finding a way to communicate the pieces he cannot see to him.

Thank you again. Until later. . .
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Old 11-08-2008, 01:26 AM   #29
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Quote:
Originally Posted by VelvetDarkness View Post
When he gets home, I am in the middle of preparing dinner. His review went very well and he is to be promoted soon so L is in very good spirits. He celebrates by tying my hands with a dishcloth, forcing me into a corner on my knees and facefucking me. I know the dinner is getting ruined but am given no opportunity to say so. By the time he smells burning he's nearly there so Master removes the food from the oven and then throws me across the kitchen table and enjoys some almost dry anal - my punishment for ruining his dinner. Afterwards, we go and shower and L plays computer games while I clean the table and salvage the meal.
Ah. The exuberance of youth. (she smiles and sighs wistfully) How things change as we grow older and the house fills with kids. . .

We married in our mid-twenties.

Just around that time, he caught me reading porn in a small-town train station. This was in the days before the internet . . . and I found this blank brown paperback on the magazine rack with the most sordid stuff I'd ever seen.

We sat side-by-side in hard plastic chairs, reading silently together, as his arm moved across my shoulder and his hand dropped onto my breast and my fingers tightened their grip on his thigh. All of a sudden, he took the book away from me and led me outside.

There, in broad daylight, in back of the station, he pulled down my jeans, and fucked me, hard, as I leaned against a stack of crates that threatened to fall over.

I remember turning my head and watching a train come down the tracks. A switchman running out to push the lever. How bright the sun was. How bare my ass felt.

For a moment I caught a glimpse of what we might look like from the train. The cock of my hips as I tried to stay balanced, one of his hands on my hips, one hand in my hair.

It was so fucking hot I couldn't believe it was part of my marriage.

I thought marriage was something staid and formal. Something orderly and stable. Not this wild . . . stolen . . . in-your-face moment.

As vulnerable as I felt, though, I also felt safe. We were tucked into the background. Camouflaged by the junk around us. I trusted this crazy mother-fucker.

We'd already decided by then that we were together until death, and I remember thinking it would be one helluva ride.

And now, more than twenty years later, our life together is orderly and stable, with steady jobs and PTA meetings, decisions we made for the benefit of the kids.

But I'm still getting fucked behind the train station when he steps into our bedroom and I realize he's got something in mind that I can't predict, and don't want to.

Thank you, VelvetDarkness, for sharing your day with us.
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Old 11-08-2008, 01:46 AM   #30
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My view of slavery--and it is only my own--is different than most. It's neither harsh, nor overly romanticized. It is what it is.

Not an endurance test.

Not a perpetual honeymoon.

Not a selfish jackass making up excuses to punish.

Not a slave orgasming wildly while Master flays her back to shreds.

Not someone doing something to remind me of "my place." (If you're doing it right, I'm not going to forget.)

Not lying around mooning up at some guy who calls himself "Master."

Not cleaning the house or cooking dinner or sucking cock or running errands or any of a million other things that, in the end, don't matter a bit, not really.


It's something a lot different, a lot more complicated, and a lot more poignant than that. It cannot be described accurately with mere words. It can never be captured in any single anecdote. It's a love so deeply beautiful and painful that it can't be understood by any but those who have felt it.

I find it most often in the quiet moments. We sit there, listening to one another breathe. No words need be spoken by either of us. The love doesn't have to be voiced; I can sense it in the air. I feel his fingers run through my hair. I stroke his legs and massage his feet and look up at him, making some sort of weird purring noise. I'm happy because he's happy. He's happy because I'm happy. I'm spoiled because he wants it to be that way.

I've always been afraid of the word "slave." I've never minded "pet" or "subbie" or "little girl" or whatever. They apply, too, and helped me circumvent the whole labeling problem.

But I am what I am, whether I like it or not.

One mark of a slave is the vulnerability and the soul-deep need to make him happy. It's knowing your heart and quite possibly your life are in his hands. It's the utter lack of self-preservation you feel in his presence. It's knowing that if he handed you a knife and told you to slit your own throat, you'd do it, all the while praying you were dying to his satisfaction and leaving your windpipe intact when you sliced, so you could apologize for bleeding on the carpet.

Another mark of a slave is knowing him so well and trusting him so deeply that while you know he realizes this about you, you also know he would never ask.
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Old 11-08-2008, 05:31 AM   #31
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Originally Posted by BiBunny View Post
One mark of a slave is the vulnerability and the soul-deep need to make him happy. It's knowing your heart and quite possibly your life are in his hands. It's the utter lack of self-preservation you feel in his presence. It's knowing that if he handed you a knife and told you to slit your own throat, you'd do it, all the while praying you were dying to his satisfaction and leaving your windpipe intact when you sliced, so you could apologize for bleeding on the carpet.

Another mark of a slave is knowing him so well and trusting him so deeply that while you know he realizes this about you, you also know he would never ask.
This is just exquisite BB.
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Old 11-08-2008, 06:31 AM   #32
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Ah.


We'd already decided by then that we were together until death, and I remember thinking it would be one helluva ride.

And now, more than twenty years later, our life together is orderly and stable, with steady jobs and PTA meetings, decisions we made for the benefit of the kids.

But I'm still getting fucked behind the train station when he steps into our bedroom and I realize he's got something in mind that I can't predict, and don't want to.

Thank you, VelvetDarkness, for sharing your day with us.
How I envy you and your family but also wish you continued bliss.
I had such an idyllic relationship for only 7 years - a lusty, joyful, monogamous marriage. Unfortunately it fell apart a few years ago. But this latest post was your best.
Again, I so much enjoy these glimpses into your life and the continued supportive, warm responses on this forum such as that by Velvet.
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Old 11-08-2008, 06:41 AM   #33
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Originally Posted by BiBunny View Post
My view of slavery--and it is only my own--is different than most. It's neither harsh, nor overly romanticized. It is what it is.

Not an endurance test.

Not a perpetual honeymoon.

Not a selfish jackass making up excuses to punish.

Not a slave orgasming wildly while Master flays her back to shreds.

Not someone doing something to remind me of "my place." (If you're doing it right, I'm not going to forget.)

Not lying around mooning up at some guy who calls himself "Master."

Not cleaning the house or cooking dinner or sucking cock or running errands or any of a million other things that, in the end, don't matter a bit, not really.


It's something a lot different, a lot more complicated, and a lot more poignant than that. It cannot be described accurately with mere words. It can never be captured in any single anecdote. It's a love so deeply beautiful and painful that it can't be understood by any but those who have felt it.

I find it most often in the quiet moments. We sit there, listening to one another breathe. No words need be spoken by either of us. The love doesn't have to be voiced; I can sense it in the air. I feel his fingers run through my hair. I stroke his legs and massage his feet and look up at him, making some sort of weird purring noise. I'm happy because he's happy. He's happy because I'm happy. I'm spoiled because he wants it to be that way.

I've always been afraid of the word "slave." I've never minded "pet" or "subbie" or "little girl" or whatever. They apply, too, and helped me circumvent the whole labeling problem.

But I am what I am, whether I like it or not.

One mark of a slave is the vulnerability and the soul-deep need to make him happy. It's knowing your heart and quite possibly your life are in his hands. It's the utter lack of self-preservation you feel in his presence. It's knowing that if he handed you a knife and told you to slit your own throat, you'd do it, all the while praying you were dying to his satisfaction and leaving your windpipe intact when you sliced, so you could apologize for bleeding on the carpet.

Another mark of a slave is knowing him so well and trusting him so deeply that while you know he realizes this about you, you also know he would never ask.
I am in awe at your virtuousity with words in communicating so beautifully your utter wantonness. From what you write, this feeling is solid and durable - unlike those transient, endorphin-induced moments of total surrender I have experienced during some hot love-making with my former girl friends.

May I be so bold as to ask you how long you have had this total devotion to your man ?
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Old 11-08-2008, 08:07 AM   #34
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Originally Posted by BiBunny View Post
One mark of a slave is the vulnerability and the soul-deep need to make him happy. It's knowing your heart and quite possibly your life are in his hands. It's the utter lack of self-preservation you feel in his presence. It's knowing that if he handed you a knife and told you to slit your own throat, you'd do it, all the while praying you were dying to his satisfaction and leaving your windpipe intact when you sliced, so you could apologize for bleeding on the carpet.

Another mark of a slave is knowing him so well and trusting him so deeply that while you know he realizes this about you, you also know he would never ask.
I think you bring up an incredibly important aspect of the relationship, BiBunny.

Power over another person can bring out the worst in people. And we have wrestled with its corrupting influence.

It takes incredible discipline, generosity, and fairness to exercise power with love. I am humbled by his ability to do it.

But the benefits of such an effort. . .

You capture the elusive quality of that love so beautifully.

Last edited by eastern sun : 11-08-2008 at 08:32 AM.
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Old 11-08-2008, 08:29 AM   #35
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We woke up early this morning. It's dark. He looks at the clock on the bedside table, a little windup travel clock that wakes us every morning. "It's 7:30," he says. (This doesn't seem right. It's too dark.) I look at the clock. "It's twenty to five." He picks up the clock and takes it to another room. He returns, "It's twenty to five," puts the clock back on the table and climbs back in bed. I hold my tongue.

He takes my hand, and starts talking about the kids. After a few minutes, my hand slips out of his, and he picks it up again and grips it tighter. He's telling me about work, now, but my focus is on my hand, where his grip hurts, and my wedding ring is cutting into my finger.

I forcably shift my focus back to his voice. He's talking about percentages of compliance and the implication for productivity and morale, and I'm having a hard time following his thinking, because my hand hurts.

I think through my options. (a) Pull my hand away. (b) Interrupt him to say "my hand hurts." (c) Accept this reality as his "slave."

Suddenly and softly, I surrender. I ask the questions I need to ask to understand what he's saying, and find in the process that a tiny movement of our fingers has lessened the pressure. His grip is still tight, but the pain isn't there, transformed by the lack of resistance and the opening of space.

I can hear him clearly, understand what he's saying, and relish the strength of his hands. We enjoy this moment together in the dark early morning. And I'm so glad I held my tongue and stayed.
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Old 11-08-2008, 08:46 AM   #36
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That reminds me somewhat of a night when L came back late after drinking with friends and I was already in bed, fast asleep. This was at a time when we had just ditched the safewords and become confident in our play. I woke to find Master's hand over my nose and mouth, suffocating me. He loomed over me in the darkness, mocking and menacing, naked and stroking his erect cock. When he was sure I was wide awake and giving him my full attention, he lifted his hand from my face and then slapped it twice, harder than is usual for him.

"Not one single sound." Was all he said.

He went to town on me, biting, pinching, slapping and sucking hard enough to make my eyes water. When he rammed 2 fingers into me and decided I wasn't wet enough, he spat onto my pussy exactly once and then ploughed in with his cock.

Many times during that encounter I almost cried out and begged for him to be more merciful, to protest that I couldn't take all that in silence. His eyes were so hard and cold though, that I was afraid of how he might react. The realisation hit me that L was setting me up to fail. He wanted an excuse to be really nasty and violent.

I took up the gauntlet thrown and I stayed silent, though I bit the insides of my cheek till they bled to do it. When he eventually let me cum, I was so wired from holding everything in, flooded with adrenaline and heightened by the pain he had inflicted that I came so hard it caused me to have a seizure. (I am epileptic so occasionally, this happens but it's not a risk or a big deal) I had to endure my climax in silence as well.

When I came around, he had cum all over my body and then dumped me on my side of the bed. He had his back turned to me and he was going to sleep. I lay there for a long time, reliving things before I was cold and tired enough to go clean myself up and get under the duvet.
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Old 11-08-2008, 09:52 AM   #37
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BiBunny you really hit the nail on the head with your comment. That to me is the essence of my slavery too. I know I would do anything Master ordered. I also know that every decision he makes is in the best interest of me, of Him and of us.

Last night something small happened that made me feel my heart clench with sure knowledge of my slavery. I was going to the bathroom and asked if Master wanted anything while I was in the kitchen. He told me to bring him a drink and being a bit sassy (as I was pouring the drink) I asked him what would happen if I didn't want to bring him the drink. He looked through the doorway to me and smiled before pointing out that I would do it anyway. And he was right.

I will do whatever he wants - even if I don't want to - because once he tells me he wants it it becomes something I want too.
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Old 11-08-2008, 11:20 AM   #38
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Quote:
Originally Posted by BiBunny View Post
My view of slavery--and it is only my own--is different than most. It's neither harsh, nor overly romanticized. It is what it is.

Not an endurance test.

Not a perpetual honeymoon.

Not a selfish jackass making up excuses to punish.

Not a slave orgasming wildly while Master flays her back to shreds.

Not someone doing something to remind me of "my place." (If you're doing it right, I'm not going to forget.)

Not lying around mooning up at some guy who calls himself "Master."

Not cleaning the house or cooking dinner or sucking cock or running errands or any of a million other things that, in the end, don't matter a bit, not really.


It's something a lot different, a lot more complicated, and a lot more poignant than that. It cannot be described accurately with mere words. It can never be captured in any single anecdote. It's a love so deeply beautiful and painful that it can't be understood by any but those who have felt it.

I find it most often in the quiet moments. We sit there, listening to one another breathe. No words need be spoken by either of us. The love doesn't have to be voiced; I can sense it in the air. I feel his fingers run through my hair. I stroke his legs and massage his feet and look up at him, making some sort of weird purring noise. I'm happy because he's happy. He's happy because I'm happy. I'm spoiled because he wants it to be that way.

I've always been afraid of the word "slave." I've never minded "pet" or "subbie" or "little girl" or whatever. They apply, too, and helped me circumvent the whole labeling problem.

But I am what I am, whether I like it or not.

One mark of a slave is the vulnerability and the soul-deep need to make him happy. It's knowing your heart and quite possibly your life are in his hands. It's the utter lack of self-preservation you feel in his presence. It's knowing that if he handed you a knife and told you to slit your own throat, you'd do it, all the while praying you were dying to his satisfaction and leaving your windpipe intact when you sliced, so you could apologize for bleeding on the carpet.

Another mark of a slave is knowing him so well and trusting him so deeply that while you know he realizes this about you, you also know he would never ask.
BB
YOU are amazing... you capture words so eloquently and on the mark, this explains my relationship to a T.... Thank you .. You are an amazing woman..

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Old 11-08-2008, 03:42 PM   #39
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I would love to better understand what the dependence you speak of feels like for you, Catalina. You are such an intelligent, and seemingly independent thinker, I believe I could learn much from your insight and experience.

Each relationship is different, of course, and your comments made me reflect on issues of dependence in our relationship. In fact, I shared your comments with him and we discussed it together.

We agreed that we both feel deeply dependent on each other. At the most basic level, he is dependent on my labor. And I depend on him for my bed and board.

On the other hand, over time I have also become more independent of him. More able to spend time apart, pursuing my own interests. More able to withstand the insensitivity and petty cruelties that inevitably mar a relationship, because I am more certain of my basic worth and goodness. More able to pursue a spiritual life that strengthens my core.

Compared to the girl I was when we met, I have grown and matured into a much better, more pleasing "slave" and wife.

The crux of my "slavery" today lies in the fact that I cannot escape whatever situation I find myself in.

As a "slave" I cannot ask him to change for me, but I can try to change. I cannot expect him to make me happy, but I can take the actions that will make us both happy. I cannot find a better world in someone else's bed or in my fantasies of what could be, but I can make a better world by learning what it really means to love another imperfect person. I understand that some people prefer separating sexual "slavery" from love. But speaking only for myself, I have given my life to this man. And I could not live without love.

Whew. I need to catch my breath.

I think I'm ready to return to my coffee cups and laundry. I'm much more comfortable there.

Thank you, again, Catalina, for giving me something to think about.
This in part is us also. Some of the depenence with us is about the financial dependency, his being almost my only (definately by far the most) social and conversational contact, language bridge when needed, and my main point of reference for the world I find myself living in. But then added to that is the realisation we have both come to that it doesn't matter what he does to me, what he says, how he treats me, I will stay and serve.

I see many saying it should be about improving the slave as a person, and their life overall...this is not necessarily the basis of our M/s. My service to him in what ever form it takes is expected and hoped to improve his life, his role as my Master does not hold the same obligation or expectation. For some that may not be right, for us it works better than the alternative where it is all about me and my needs/wants. That being said, he can be generous, but as he also says, he can be a right bastard. I love him both ways.

Catalina
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Old 11-08-2008, 03:59 PM   #40
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I see many saying it should be about improving the slave as a person, and their life overall...this is not necessarily the basis of our M/s. My service to him in what ever form it takes is expected and hoped to improve his life, his role as my Master does not hold the same obligation or expectation.

Catalina

This is not something I really get either. While she may improve as a result of her service to me, that is not the explicit point. The point of any improvement is not that she becomes a better person, but that she serves me better. As you say, your service is there to improve F's life. It makes me wonder about some of the times I've read such things, and yet have never seen or talked to anyone that acts that way in real life.

This thread continues to be excellent. Kudos again to eastern sun for starting it, and the rest of you for adding your voices.

And Bibunny, that was a wonderful post!
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Old 11-08-2008, 04:46 PM   #41
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I agree that the point of the M/s in our life is to make his life easier and better. He has on many occasions told me that my training will be life long as he continues to train me to please him more and more.

In doing that he is helping me attain and fulfill my potential as his slave but the primary aim is to make his life better. Improving my skills and abilities are purely for his pleasure and needs.
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Old 11-08-2008, 06:19 PM   #42
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I think you bring up an incredibly important aspect of the relationship, BiBunny.

Power over another person can bring out the worst in people. And we have wrestled with its corrupting influence.

It takes incredible discipline, generosity, and fairness to exercise power with love. .

I have seldom seen so much wisdom and insight expressed in one thread !

On a larger scale, the ability to resist the temptation to abuse power has seldom been practised.

Famous exceptions are:

Lucius Quinctius Cincinattus (519 BC - 430 BC)

George Washington

Nelson Madela (I attended his trial - the infamous "Rivonia Trial" in the Supremre Court In Pretoria, South Aftica, during 1964)

Your insight into your husband's noble qualities is amazing !

I continue to so much enjoy this intellectual intercourse between you and the wonderful people who keep fuelling this thread !
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Old 11-08-2008, 07:44 PM   #43
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I have been telling him for awhile if there were a submissive dictionary or word for the fact I feel no more at peace and home when I am at his side on my knees serving him. I enjoy as you do the simple things in life as well as when he decides he wants something.. He is my life...
I wonder if the word is "devotion."
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Old 11-08-2008, 10:01 PM   #44
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May I be so bold as to ask you how long you have had this total devotion to your man ?
A long time. I'm only just now realizing it.

Quote:
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And Bibunny, that was a wonderful post!
Thank you and everyone else who responded kindly. I figured y'all would give me hell for the revelation, considering my previous distaste for being a slave.

Ah, well. Crow is a dish best served cold, etc., etc.
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Grammar is very important to the Nazi party.

Na razrusha'ya. E'ya razrushost.
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Old 11-08-2008, 10:24 PM   #45
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Thank you and everyone else who responded kindly. I figured y'all would give me hell for the revelation, considering my previous distaste for being a slave.

Ah, well. Crow is a dish best served cold, etc., etc.
I have a policy of not giving anyone grief for personal growth, regardless of any possible irony. Personal growth should be celebrated.

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Old 11-09-2008, 12:04 AM   #46
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when my cell phone rings and the preprogrammed caller id number name flashes on the screen and it says, Master

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Old 11-09-2008, 12:08 AM   #47
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A long time. I'm only just now realizing it.



Thank you and everyone else who responded kindly. I figured y'all would give me hell for the revelation, considering my previous distaste for being a slave.

Ah, well. Crow is a dish best served cold, etc., etc.

...i think your post was great and displays depth of understanding

pet
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Old 11-09-2008, 12:26 AM   #48
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Originally Posted by Homburg View Post
I have a policy of not giving anyone grief for personal growth, regardless of any possible irony. Personal growth should be celebrated.

I have WAY too much appreciation for the irony that the universe likes to throw at us for me to let it go unacknowledged. But your advice is a good bit of the reason for the revelation, you know, and it's muchly appreciated.

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...i think your post was great and displays depth of understanding

pet
Thank you lots. I feel like I don't know what I'm talking about 90% of the time.
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About heroes and crooks
And I learned much from both of their styles


Grammar is very important to the Nazi party.

Na razrusha'ya. E'ya razrushost.
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Old 11-09-2008, 12:40 AM   #49
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I have WAY too much appreciation for the irony that the universe likes to throw at us for me to let it go unacknowledged. But your advice is a good bit of the reason for the revelation, you know, and it's muchly appreciated.
Well, I didn't say that I failed to appreciate the irnoy. I just choose not to mention it

Glad I could help

Quote:
Thank you lots. I feel like I don't know what I'm talking about 90% of the time.
If people were more honest, you'd hear more folks admit what you just said here.
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"more than an awesome talking Cock."
-myinnerslut, from the Ropework Photos thread...


I am not usually one for titles. In my world, titles are reserved for relationships.
Millificent (aka "viv") and myinnerslut both call me "Master".
You can call me "Homburg". Still accepting Rope Bunny applications, of course.

Disclaimer: Live your life how you want to live. Be secure enough in what you do that _my_ words won't affect you. Because my opinion has no material meaning in your life beyond what you let it have.
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Old 11-09-2008, 02:47 AM   #50
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Originally Posted by eastern sun View Post
I wonder if the word is "devotion."
that just might be true....

Hey where did you find the submissive dictionary ??!?!?!?
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