Dislocation

A few nights ago, I disappointed my Master again. My behaviour showed an unacceptable lack of self-control. I was selfish and shortsighted about how my behaviour reflects on him. The shame was overwhelming when I reflected and realised I had behaved inappropriately, and I emailled him my explanation and apology as soon as I could. But it wasn't enough to prevent his anger.

When Master withdraws his kindness, I am dislocated. Everything becomes purposeless. I just drift, hoping and waiting for him. At one point, I really thought I was going to lose him this time. I tried to test it in my mind, to see if I could survive it: asking myself, what if he frees you? I couldn't even comprehend it. There was no answer, just a big.............. silent........... void............

I know I am a good submissive. I used to doubt myself a lot, but over time Master has shown me just how much strength, and obedience and potential I really have. I strive to better myself and show more and more devotion to him, to go further and further into that heavenly place where I know I am enslaved, where only his desire matters. But sometimes I fail. And when I do, it seems my failures are severe.... unforgivable.

He was eerily normal the other night at first - not like last time, when his every glance was ice cold. Then he directed me to kneel beside him, my back to him. He made me sit there a long time. A very long time... until my knees throbbed in agony, my thighs tingled, and my feet felt as though they did not exist at all. I started to plead to be allowed to move, but the tone of his "no" was merciless and I went silent. The pain was not like being whipped or beaten - there was no sensuality in this, it was only agony. It took all my determination to stay there, getting closer to tears, telling myself, be strong... be strong for him... Until finally he told me to stand, and I couldn't - my legs wouldn't even twitch, and I groaned as I tried to force them, as if trying to wake a dead thing. He pushed me to the floor in contempt, and began to fuck me. He told me to crawl as he did it, and I could only drag myself with my hands, legs sliding uselessly behind me. He made me lick the floor, and I screamed as spasms of pain gradually re-entered my muscles, and a couple of tears did come, while he fucked me... his property.... used...

He said, "There are many forms of punishment, aren't there?" And it hit me how effortless it had been for him to put me there, crawling like an amputee, helpless and in pain. He hadn't even needed to touch me.

If I do something like this a third time... well... I don't even want to type it. I can't lose him. What am I without him? Just a common slut, with no one to guide me, protect me, teach me, understand me, no one to love. No one else could come close to filling his shoes.

Now my fear is all the more real. These two times I have so seriously disappointed him, I was completely unaware. I slipped up naively and failed to recognise my error until much later. Both times, I tried to right my mistake but grossly underestimated its significance. What horrifies me is that lack of awareness. If I cannot see my failure when it happens, how do I avoid it? This is very troubling to me. In a way, I feel trapped - doomed to fail no matter what effort I make. Vigilance is essential, but will it be enough?

I have to try. And think very hard. I need to please him.

Absence

Funny, the things that make you miss someone. People talk about a particular song, or a street name, or a time of day that brings on that sense of nostalgia and makes them long for the one they love. For me, today, it was a true anti-romantic's cue. I was alone in a park and I saw a man alone on the other side of the grass, looking at me. It triggered memories of things I'd done for Master, and of things he'd said, and made me repeat back to him. Promises, hopes, and fantasies.

I miss him so much I feel sick. I feel alone.

Please let me come home, Sir...

The wait

"Start a blog," He said, "I want to know what you are thinking and feeling. I want to know what you imagine us doing."

A part of me doesn't want to right now - its too much, too private. But thats what makes it most relevant, and most important that I do. I may not hide anything from him, even in silence.

Since the last time Master spoke to me, I have been a mess of hurt and shame. He was so angry about what I'd done that I feared he would never want me back. I've been anxious and crying. I've been sleeping little and eating less. I feel crushed... fragmented... lost...

Is this my punishment? May I beg for it to stop?

I have been blind and carelessly disobedient. I deserve to be treated harshly for my ignorance and failure to learn, and I will embrace the sternest discipline with gratitude.... but his rejection is more than I can take.

He told me once that I deserved him, and I was awed. Even then it seemed like more compliment than I had earned. Perhaps I don't deserve him anymore...?

I told him I would wait until he wished to speak to me. It has been agonising, taking every ounce of my determination and strength to show the patience I know he desires in me, and wait for him. So many fears are running through my mind - what if he never speaks to me again? What if he just doesn't want me anymore? What if I try speaking to him and he is angry again? What if he tells me I may not speak to him? What if I have to wait a long time? How long can I cope?

I imagine going to his house and waiting outside his door for him, until he comes home. I want to kneel with my head down and wait. And when he ignores me and goes inside, I will still wait. As long as it takes. I would wait for him all night if he didn't return. And if he left the next morning, without acknowledging me, I would return that same night and wait some more. If it comes to it, I will. I told Sista this and she said "What if he kicks you like a stray dog?" I thought, I hope he does. Anything is better than him ignoring me. And I said "I belong to him. He can do what he likes with me."

This is my worst fear come to life - I let myself love him and now he is gone, through my own doing, and I don't know if or when he will return. Just like we enacted on the day when he left me tied and abandoned, I have no choice but to wait as long as it takes - because he possesses me. That day I was scared, but now it is real, and I am hurting to the core. Without my beautiful Sista's help, I would simply break apart.

I told her that blogging seemed like a cheat - a way of speaking to him while still waiting, and it was her that pointed out that he wants to read my thoughts and feelings in the blog. And this is too important to leave out. Thank you, Sis...

Recently I asked him about why he prefers me to keep my blog private, selecting who I should give the link to and when, and he chose not to answer directly. Thinking now, I feel I understand what the answer is: it doesn't matter why, because the blog is his. It is his possession of my thoughts, feelings, and fantasies. He chooses what to do with them, not me. Like my body, it belongs to him, and he will share it with whom he chooses. So today, I may not want to publish my disgrace and shame, but I will, because I write it for him, no one else.

Honesty

If I'm totally honest with myself, that whole last post was a load of BS.

Its all true, and relevant, but not the main thing bugging me at all.

The truth is, I'm just uncomfortable being so dependent on him. I'm looking for reasons why dependency is inappropriate, when really its just that I'm scared and I want an excuse to care a little less (as if thats an option).

My secret neediness has been showing, and it makes me fear driving him away. So I try and cover it up as quick as I can.

There. That was real.

Fear & desire

Someone said to me recently that many of our biggest sexual fantasies are a reflection of our greatest fears. There are a million obvious ways that idea could be applied to anyone into anything kinky, probably without much substance. But when that (vanilla) person said that, what immediately came to my mind was one specific way in which, for me, it is undeniably and very deeply true.

I am quite obviously (to anyone who has read much of this blog, or anyone who knows me well) terrified of one thing above any other: being rejected by someone I love. I am most afraid of making myself vulnerable to someone, and them leaving me.

The connection I made when I heard the comment above came easily - one fantasy I've long had but never explored is abandonment. Specifically, being tied, locked up, or otherwise restrained, and left. Not knowing where the person on whom my release is dependent has gone, and when or even if they will return. Left alone and vulnerable, and with nothing to do but wait.... and wait...

I have always marveled at that fantasy, what its appeal might be, and whether the reality would really be the strangely pleasant anxiety-provoking experience it is in my mind, or if the mix of emotions would be a negative experience. Today, I found out.

I had no idea what Master had in mind when he told me to lay face down on the bed, and cuffed my wrists to the corners, pulling them tight so I had little movement in my arms at all. He blindfolded me and, for a while, went about his business. I was aware that there was still a while to go before he had to leave for work, and he had previously asked about the time, so I supposed that he was expecting someone who would use me. An anonymous fuck while tied to the bed sounded nice, and since it wasn't a long while before he had to leave, I figured it would be a pretty short wait.

I heard music, realised Master had kindly selected one of my favourite CDs, and smiled to myself. I laid there, waited, and relaxed. At first I thought I'd imagined the light touch of an object against my pussy, but there it was a second time - Master was teasing me with something, and I hadn't even been aware he had re-entered the room. I sighed when he stopped, wanting more, and more was given, in the form of a few light strikes to my ass cheeks - crop or cane, not firm enough for me to be really sure which. I wondered if his plan was not a horny stranger, but some heavy pain, but guessed that given his plans for me later this week, he wouldn't want to mark me. He stopped and left the room again.

I started wondering what was taking so long. Did he just want to leave me restrained in his bedroom for the rest of his time at home, and not release me til he left for work? He entered the room again, and I heard him moving around, fiddling with something. When I felt the loop of rope circle my ankle I moaned in surprised pleasure (I would describe myself as having a rope fetish). He tied off both my feet as tightly as my hands, and then came closer to me and told me to lift my head. At first I thought it was a gag he placed in front of me and I anticipated pain again, but it wasn't a gag, but a collar. He positioned it firmly around my neck, and although my movement was no more restricted than without it, I felt all the more captive. With cuffs and ropes he confines me, but with a collar he possesses me.

A few more taps on my ass with what was definitely a crop this time. He ran it up my body and the side of my face. I took the tip in my mouth - I am not normally one to get any joy out of leather, but at that moment I lusted for it. He placed the crop on my back, sitting with the end between my ass cheeks, and left the room. And then left the house.

I waited, spread out and blind. I heard the front door close and listened, thinking, is he standing outside? Or is he inside, and the door was just a bluff? No, I felt quite sure he'd really left. At first I waited for him to come back inside. Slowly I realised he'd actually gone somewhere. I waited. I thought, he'll probably be only ten minutes. I started to wish I'd asked permission to use the toilet before he'd tied me down. I started to worry about that a lot, feeling pressure on my bladder from lying face down and groaned a little, imagining the horror if I couldn't hold on and eventually pissed in Master's bed. Eventually I caught hold of myself, and rationalised it. I didn't really need to go that badly at all - it was just the lack of any other sensation that was making the need feel stronger - nothing else to focus my attention on.

I tried to relax and prepare myself to wait. I listened, trying to hear if each passing car was his, pulling back into the driveway. Several times I was fooled. I wondered where he was, and what he was doing. I wondered if he would leave me there and go to work. I wondered if he had meant to be back by now, and something had gone wrong. I instantly scratched that thought from my mind - imagining bad things would only make me panic.

I wondered again if he really was there, and I raised my head to listen more carefully. It was hard - the sound of his ceiling fan was tricky. I whimpered a little, thinking again of my bladder, and called, "Sir...?". No answer. His home phone rang, kept ringing, and the machine answered, confirming I was alone. Ok. Don't think about needing to pee.

I started feeling mildly impatient, and tapped my fingers a little. I had been here so long. It felt like a couple of hours - and I'd thought he needed to be back to go to work? How long, I wondered, should I wait before trying to struggle out of this? I tried not to think that I wouldn't be able to, instead delayed the issue by reminding myself that Master had left me here because this was how he wanted me, and I should not fight that or I would disappoint him. I recognised that of course it would feel like a long time: I couldn't move, or see, and had nothing to occupy my mind other than my anxieties. I realised that the CD was on repeat, and I tried to work out how far through its second run it was. I reasoned that given the length of the album (that I knew well), I had been there roughly 3o minutes. Ok. But didn't that put it really close to the time he needed to be at work? If I was right, surely he had intended to be back by now. Suddenly I desperately wanted to know the time. I realised I could rub my head against the bed and dislodge the blindfold to check. But what if I couldn't get it back, and Master returned to find I had disobediently removed it? I resolved to hold on at least until the CD restarted a third time before I considered that an option.

I decided to stop worrying and concentrate on the music. I followed the lyrics and whispered the words to myself. Finally I started to give in, and relax. I was stuck here, alone. I trust Master, and I would trust that this was what he had intended - I had no other choice, anyway. Perhaps he really wouldn't return for a very long time, that wouldn't change anything. I had to wait, so I would wait.

Did I hear a noise? Was that the front door? I heard nothing further, just the music and the fan, and started to think I had imagined it. Then I thought I could hear breathing in the room with me - was that real? If Master was there, he was standing still a long time. What if it was someone else? A total stranger, walked into the house and standing there, looking at me... Just when I started to think it was all in my head, the bed creaked. Yes, definitely someone there. Was it Master, or not? I waited... finally, a body on the bed behind me, my thighs pushed apart, and a cock pushed inside me. Yes! It was him - inexplicably but unquestionably familiar. Suddenly all the anxieties of my wait came to a head and I felt euphoric - I would have orgasmed beyond belief that second... if I'd had permission :)

All up, Master said he had left me for 45 minutes. It was a challenging experience - I had to work to keep myself calm, and without the music I'm not sure I could have. But overall, a very positive one - and reaffirming of my trust in him. If there's a next time, it will probably be easier. And I hope - very cautiously - that there is.