the marks of a slave

[eastern sun]

Slut, don't molest nature with your stinking pig cunt

Rest assured, no trees were harmed in the making of this metaphor.

 

[gypsy*seer]

Rest assured, no trees were harmed in the making of this metaphor.

*snicker*

 

[karma9]

Rest assured, no trees were harmed in the making of this metaphor.

Good to know, slut; otherwise you had to get on your knees and lick that pig cunt muck clean.

 

[eastern sun]

My hunger catches me by surprise as I'm moving through my days.

All the energy that has been generated by you, for you, swirls in lazy, heated
anticipation. To suddenly erupt in my belly, interrupting my thoughts of
family and traditions, with images of delicious, twisted pleasures.

Suddenly, without warning, I'm sucking in my breath, feeling the heat rise in
the cold, and all I want to do is rub this blazing pig cunt against the roughest
tree.

I have filled my belly with hunger for you, and now, it gnaws like an incessant
burning itch.

And so, I throw myself in your path, belly exposed. Hunger blazing. My eyes on
fire.

Wishing you a very hungry holiday.

I sent that greeting to the new handler, and got this in response -

"Now THAT'S the kind of holiday wish I enjoy! Perfect! Well kiddo, I wish you a holiday replete with family, love, warmth, blessings and love.
And, when the dust settles and you've finished with the holiday cheer, come to me for your greater reward and satisfaction as the dirty, hungry little pigwhore you ache to be.
Ho Ho Ho...and a verrrry hungry holiday. Yes, you be that dirty ho! The ho I long to hear grunting

Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!"

which made me happier than the proverbial pig in shit.

I still feel like I'm competing with a small stable for the tastiest scraps.

 

[eastern sun]

Because I know (and hope) you will read this. . . .

Je pense a toi, mon cher. Tous les jours.
Mon coeur est a toi. Mon reve est a toi.

Bon voyage et bonne annee! A bientot.

 

[gypsy*seer]

Because I know (and hope) you will read this. . . .

Je pense a toi, mon cher. Tous les jours.
Mon coeur est a toi. Mon reve est a toi.

Bon voyage et bonne annee! A bientot.

Tres bien! C'est magnifique.

 

[eastern sun]

Yes, he's returned in full force.

And I am frightened by his desire to hurt me, even while I crave it so deeply. My heart breaks in its moorings to all that is tender and sweet. And I want to cry for the child that seeks this kind of love, even as I sing for the woman who is brave enough to encounter it.

And more than anything, I am so frightened that I will not be strong enough. Or weak enough. I don't know which.

My heart is screaming. Even while I lay myself at his feet.

 

[karma9]

The marks of a slave shine from her eyes, written on her face.

 

[eastern sun]

The marks of a slave shine from her eyes, written on her face.

I think this is true.

 

[eastern sun]

Pig's ego is a burden, willingly (if not easily) dispensed with.

In this search for a mirror to my desires, I can be swept up in the making of images - and pride myself on my ability to capture the rawness of the experience in a well-turned phrase or photograph. These feed my ego as I look back on myself - caught in glass - and witness the fire in me. The beauty. The soul.

These videos I am making are different, documenting my clumsiness, shortcomings and failures, my pathetic attempts to satisfy this insatiable hunger, showing instead the desperation of my need. They challenge my ego, and challenge me to love my efforts even as I fail. Apart from the obvious fears of putting such "shameful" and "humiliating" records in someone else's hands, I have avoided the moving image because I have not been ready to see myself so fully.

In person, I am more comfortable letting go completely. My desperate hunger, my awkward gestures, my pathetic need, my radiant energy are all just what I bring to the moment, and then I lose it all. I simply become what I am. And if I trust, I will give all of me. And go wherever I am led. And I genuinely don't care what I look like, how I sound, what shape my body is in, because I am no longer aware of myself in those ways. I am only conscious of the path I'm being shown, or the next breath, or the other's movement, or the overwhelming sensations in my body and mind.

It is always liberating to let go of something you thought you needed. To discover its non-essential nature. And so it has been for me to discover I can begin to let go of what is really the most pathetic aspect of me - the need to paint my craving for depravity in elegant shades of spirituality, intelligence and beauty.

It is like painting lipstick on a pig.

I am, and have always been a dirty, twisted, greedy bitch.

 

[eastern sun]

There is a lyric in one of Ramsay Midwood's songs that keeps running through my mind -

"feed your dog or it will run away"

which summarizes one of the most significant differences in my experience of animal and slave.

As slave, running away is not an option. It is never a viable solution or action in any situation.

As animal, though, by the end of my two week holiday, without any negative feelings or strong intention, I was already drifting. My mind shifting directions.

Until this trainer returned and fed me. And then, lord, I was suddenly an eager panting bitch, walking at his heels, and baring my belly at his feet.

You have to feed your dog.

But if you give your slave a patch of earth, s/he'll feed both of you.

 

[eastern sun]

My ego is taking a severe beating. It's all good, and what I asked for, but it brings me right up against a deep-seated loneliness that my ego wedges between itself and my core. Almost as though - my ego threatens - without her structure, I'll succumb completely to the weight of that heavy isolation brought on by pathetic feelings of being "alone." Even when I'm surrounded by people. And sink into blank and empty indifference.

And because it is so familiar, I start to feel like this pattern of loneliness is an integral part of this sexuality of mine. Or this sexuality of mine is a necessary consequence of the fear of that loneliness. Causing me either to cling desperately to others, like an overripe fruit about to drop from the limb, reeking of untasted need. Or embrace my isolation and seek out those fleeting moments of burning contact - where the intensity of the interaction - of the physical and mental gesture - are so undeniable, it cannot help but penetrate to the core.

It might help if I remember, in spite of appearances, that I am not alone. In my need, in my desperation, in my twisted desires, in my confusion, or in my loneliness.

I'm just one more pervert trying to find her way home.

 

[gypsy*seer]

It might help if I remember, in spite of appearances, that I am not alone. In my need, in my desperation, in my twisted desires, in my confusion, or in my loneliness.

I'm just one more pervert trying to find her way home.

Your last few posts are so eloquent, so beautifully said, eastern sun.
Shine on....

 

[eastern sun]

"What you are to be you are now becoming"

The banner that flies over my efforts today.
A legacy of military school.

 

[eastern sun]

Torn between a longing for the freedom of the animal.
And the creative artistry of the human.

How can you choose?

 

[eastern sun]

Pig craves handling.

Pig wants to be caught and tied, roped and collared, led squealing to the pen.
Pig wants to feed on cock and cum, snorting and gagging, throat and mouth and snout and face covered in slobbery muck and sour slime.
Pig wants to hang from hooks, ropes tight, udders sagging in weighted clamps.
Pig wants hands testing tender flesh, tanning with leather, tenderizing darkened flesh.
Pig wants to lay on the table, hogtied with an apple, a winter feast to warm a body.
Pig wants a pig fuck, impaled by cock and fist and toy, holes stretched, flesh strained.
Pig wants to wash her burning flesh in piss, wallowing in the dirt, the cum, the tears, the sweet, sweet smells of blazing pig cunt.

Pig craves her handler.

 

[eastern sun]

Another difference between animal and slave.

It doesn't matter what slave wants. Unless he wants it to.

 

[rida]

Thank you for sharing your thought process, your discoveries and feelings with us.

Right now I'd say you have not lost any of the artistry of the human to the freedom of the animal.

Another difference between animal and slave.

It doesn't matter what slave wants. Unless he wants it to.

*nod*
But then again, even as an animal, you are not going to get something unless your handler wants it to.

To me, the bigger difference though is that as an animal, he can not expect you to have too much self control or self-censorship skills.

I wonder though. how effective are punishments with pigs? Do pigs learn how to avoid negative consequences and correct their behavior? But most importantly, would I pig handler want to do that? And if a pig can be trained to act as a slave, would not that defeat the purpose?

 

[eastern sun]

*nod*
But then again, even as an animal, you are not going to get something unless your handler wants it to.

To me, the bigger difference though is that as an animal, he can not expect you to have too much self control or self-censorship skills.

I wonder though. how effective are punishments with pigs? Do pigs learn how to avoid negative consequences and correct their behavior? But most importantly, would I pig handler want to do that? And if a pig can be trained to act as a slave, would not that defeat the purpose?

You're right, rida. The lack of self-control and self-censorship is exactly what he's looking for. And in this early stage of the relationship, I am a tangle of internal conflicts, as I simultaneously loosen my grip on both my flesh and inhibitions and try to conform to his expectations and desires.

One thing that's funny in this experience is that both my husband and the handler are eager to experience my unfettered sexuality, encouraging me to let go and free myself from social constraints, but as soon as I begin to express myself - my own fantasies and desires, they catch the energy that is released and reshape it into just exactly what they want to see. (I have to keep myself from falling into despair that what I'm offering isn't good enough, because it's always being shaped into something new. Somewhere deep down I know it is good enough, the process just plays into my tremendous insecurities.)

And it's not the pig that's trainable, I think; it's the bitch. Pig is skittish, and will cringe and run, but keeps following her nose back to the pungent smell of the sex she craves, in spite of the fact that she knows she'll be caught and devoured.

The bitch, on the other hand, is so eager to please. She's the one who rolls on her back, baring her belly and pink, tugs on her leash, carries toys she wants to play with to the handler in her teeth, and waits on her knees with tongue wagging and bright shiny eyes. She is trainable. Alert and responsive.

When he is displeased, pig wants to run. Bitch wants to please. The potent mix of the two is quite intoxicating.

And hence, the pigbitch.

 

[rida]

Thank you for your explanation
It makes sense that the bitch is trainable and eager to please. I can see how conflictual it can get between the pig and the bitch. Like the conflict between the ego and the slave, without all the words and logical thinking. A more primal conflict.

But, how does your higher conscience slave-self and creative ego deal with viewing the conflict between the pig and the bitch?

I'm on a suspended break from the Sadist, and have had very little need to be an obedient submissive/slave in the last few months (also within my own marriage's D/s structure, it has not been required in any active way).
At the same time I've been given the chance to explore the kinky world doing something that brings me directly pleasure, for a change, something for my own enjoyment. (Specifically I've been having a chance to be a rope bunny for different rope artists and might have found a rope-top play partner/mentor).

I'm realizing that the over heading structure of my own ego, my thinking brain, has taken back total control, the hold it used to have. And is very very reluctant to let it go, not even while I'm strung up in rope, defenseless and, apparently, defeated. To the point that when I feel the rope-top's energy try to Dominate mine, my ego reacts with fury and it takes all my own self control to not fight back. While at the same time totally yielding to the rope.

It is making me wonder about the reality of my submission, the "truth" of it.

Sorry for the derailment and the many prying questions. I was just wondering if the discovery of a new aspect of your pyl-identity is creating a conflict with your previous one.

 

[eastern sun]

Thank you for your explanation
It makes sense that the bitch is trainable and eager to please. I can see how conflictual it can get between the pig and the bitch. Like the conflict between the ego and the slave, without all the words and logical thinking. A more primal conflict.

But, how does your higher conscience slave-self and creative ego deal with viewing the conflict between the pig and the bitch?

I'm on a suspended break from the Sadist, and have had very little need to be an obedient submissive/slave in the last few months (also within my own marriage's D/s structure, it has not been required in any active way).
At the same time I've been given the chance to explore the kinky world doing something that brings me directly pleasure, for a change, something for my own enjoyment. (Specifically I've been having a chance to be a rope bunny for different rope artists and might have found a rope-top play partner/mentor).

I'm realizing that the over heading structure of my own ego, my thinking brain, has taken back total control, the hold it used to have. And is very very reluctant to let it go, not even while I'm strung up in rope, defenseless and, apparently, defeated. To the point that when I feel the rope-top's energy try to Dominate mine, my ego reacts with fury and it takes all my own self control to not fight back. While at the same time totally yielding to the rope.

It is making me wonder about the reality of my submission, the "truth" of it.

Sorry for the derailment and the many prying questions. I was just wondering if the discovery of a new aspect of your pyl-identity is creating a conflict with your previous one.

Rida, your rope experiences sound like fun! You make a stunning rope bunny, too. And maybe there's enough space in a lifetime for everything! I know that's what I want in my greedy self.

I think there's a difference between physical submission and mental or emotional submission. They can go hand-in-hand, be in conflict, one can wax while the other wanes.

My experience with rope is that the physical restraints don't require a quieting of the ego in full. There is a need for mental and emotional calm, which indicate a kind of temporary suspension of ego-based will, but ego can stay quite engaged on a day-to-day basis. And since ego usually asserts itself by default, no problem.

My experience with slavery and other forms of behavioral transformation is that, though there are physical behavior mod techniques, rewards/punishments, etc. the primary tool necessary for success is mental flexibility. And to be mentally flexible, you have to loosen the grip of the ego, and its marriage to fixed structures. And identities.

My ego engages in desperate attempts to assert itself. And in my experience, there is rarely an eradication of ego. It's more an opening of space around it, so it appears smaller and less significant. And then you can catch a glimpse of the incredible vastness of possibility and free yourself from fixed ideas.

 

[eastern sun]

Sorry for the derailment and the many prying questions. I was just wondering if the discovery of a new aspect of your pyl-identity is creating a conflict with your previous one.

I love your comments and questions, rida. Please don't apologize!

I realized I didn't answer this question earlier. Acting on difference aspects of my pyl-identity does create some superficial conflicts, but in essence it's all derived from the same source. And in our relationship, my husband relishes it. I'm not allowed to stop serving him sexually (unless that's explicitly what he wants his cuckolding fetishes sometimes manifest that way) or domestically. I'm just more preoccupied than usual, and take a lot of heat for my slow response times. He also likes to feel me serve him as a means for gaining permission to interact with the handler, and he especially likes to see aspects of my sexuality that surprise him. (I think it's kind of funny that there are so many aspects that surprise him after 25 years, but it speaks volumes as to whose sexual interests have dominated the relationship.) The whole dynamic is fairly well-tuned, so when it's functioning smoothly it works very well. The real source of conflicts, as for others I think, are those very clumsy moments when we genuinely hurt each other's feelings or piss each other off, and those pesky responsibilities and obligations that need to be met.

 

[eastern sun]

And you know you're cooked when "crawl to me, bitch" sounds like a fucking love song.

 

[sweepthefloor]

And you know you're cooked when "crawl to me, bitch" sounds like a fucking love song.

Considered yourself stalked! If I could quote this entire thread, which I believe I have read entirely, I would. I still remember the first time I read your words till my eyes could hardly take one more minute of opening. My eyes were so tired and felt like they were filled with sand, but at the same time I got a saline tear rinse, felt better and slept. That was months ago when I signed up to read here.

And lonely with an inarticulate mind, I hang on to your words like the last thread in the nylons I rip myself, when no one is looking.

 

[rida]

Rida, your rope experiences sound like fun! You make a stunning rope bunny, too. And maybe there's enough space in a lifetime for everything! I know that's what I want in my greedy self.

Rope, so far, is all about feeding my greedy self! LOL
If you ever get the chance to be tied in this manners of kimbaku/shibari, please do so. I'm sure you will love it!

I think there's a difference between physical submission and mental or emotional submission. They can go hand-in-hand, be in conflict, one can wax while the other wanes.

My experience with rope is that the physical restraints don't require a quieting of the ego in full. There is a need for mental and emotional calm, which indicate a kind of temporary suspension of ego-based will, but ego can stay quite engaged on a day-to-day basis. And since ego usually asserts itself by default, no problem.

My experience with slavery and other forms of behavioral transformation is that, though there are physical behavior mod techniques, rewards/punishments, etc. the primary tool necessary for success is mental flexibility. And to be mentally flexible, you have to loosen the grip of the ego, and its marriage to fixed structures. And identities.

Emotional or physical submission are easy, or so it seems to me. The mental one is my bete noir.

The most I can get is to make my mind overwhelmed and thus speechless, something that happens with pain play, where the entirety of my mind is reduced to fear/flight/fight and screams. But it is merely an overpowering of it.
The mind's overwhelmed state, makes it easier to submit as there is no discordant voice talking in my head. Too bad I also lose about 50IQ points, making me slow in understanding and obeying.

With rope too my mind quiets down, but it is mostly due to a folding onto itself.
It is like my mind curls up into fetal position, listening and talking to itself, the outside world forgotten. Unless, of course, I'm being tied by a rigger with a dominant energy that knows how to tap into my energy and keeps me off-centered and interferes just enough to keep me from closing up into myself.

My ego engages in desperate attempts to assert itself. And in my experience, there is rarely an eradication of ego. It's more an opening of space around it, so it appears smaller and less significant. And then you can catch a glimpse of the incredible vastness of possibility and free yourself from fixed ideas.

The core of my ego is hidden and protected withing a diamond core. All the different layers around can be shattered, or penetrated, but the core, even I don't really know what it consist of.

And I agree that it is a question of opening space around it. It is just that the "fixed ideas", the over structure is what we confuse with our identity and as such have a hard time letting go.

I love your comments and questions, rida. Please don't apologize!

I realized I didn't answer this question earlier. Acting on difference aspects of my pyl-identity does create some superficial conflicts, but in essence it's all derived from the same source. And in our relationship, my husband relishes it. I'm not allowed to stop serving him sexually (unless that's explicitly what he wants his cuckolding fetishes sometimes manifest that way) or domestically. I'm just more preoccupied than usual, and take a lot of heat for my slow response times. He also likes to feel me serve him as a means for gaining permission to interact with the handler, and he especially likes to see aspects of my sexuality that surprise him. (I think it's kind of funny that there are so many aspects that surprise him after 25 years, but it speaks volumes as to whose sexual interests have dominated the relationship.) The whole dynamic is fairly well-tuned, so when it's functioning smoothly it works very well. The real source of conflicts, as for others I think, are those very clumsy moments when we genuinely hurt each other's feelings or piss each other off, and those pesky responsibilities and obligations that need to be met.

Thank you again for a glimpse into your dynamic.
I've been thinking about the way the power is in my marriage, between my Hubby and I. He is the PYL, and I'm the pyl. But I'm not HIS slave, I'm not HIS property. But I am a slave, a slave to the marriage, and within the marriage to him as the husband. It is simply that the good of the marriage comes before anything he might want, to the point that sometime I need to push what I need for the sake of it. And of course there is the dichotomy that it is all about him, but I'm the one reading up, and exploring and learning and meeting new people.

I've been accused that it has stopped being about us and it has become about me. I cannot totally deny the accusation. But I am aware and do my best to keep him as the top priority.

And you know you're cooked when "crawl to me, bitch" sounds like a fucking love song.

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