Oh well, it the same hold hen

Kinda too tired so I’ll be very short: abroad for work for 3 weeks and that’s all. Plain simple.
Of course nothing that concern me is simple and of course I could spend some time explaining a few boring thoughts I had.
But tonight even I’m too boring even for myself.
And, come on, it’s Halloween.
Go out and have fun.
You probably deserve it!

As I walk the funny forest of my desires, I always and hopelessly end up dreaming significant things.
The more I try to march into that jungle, the more I find difficult to stop and taste that delicate flowers that are indeed messages from my inner self.
How and why I dreamt, tonight, of a muscle bear which I was in love with for he treated me like a slut and again how and why that dream became a sort of romantic story with another stocky guy with a very firm hand and always touching his cock through his denim, always asking intimate question, always having a firm control on whatever I was doing or even thinking?
And why thinking of that I am, now, hard?

It’s all about control then? The feeling of being taken care of, instructed, punished even but always for a higher end? Why am I aroused by a less than cute chubby man with a hand on his cock and belt?
The answers to this questions are indeed far from being reached. Nonetheless I find myself doing more and more of this dreams. And this, somehow, must be a kind of a meaning.
Yeah?

Where does my secret lies then?
Where I will find a rest, finally?

To analyse is pretty anal.

The statement is made, the dices are throw. I analyse too much and in that something must be wrong.
We are indeed defined by the words we choose, the words I choose to define myself are going deeper somehow.
First of all I’m a geek. Maybe even worst, a nerd. I like to read and computer and I could make a good living of IT programming but I decided to study arts. First mistake of my life.
Secondly I’m a slave. Call me a slut, a sub, a bitch, whatever you want and I’ll be happy. Especially if you have a nice belt too. I could go on an have vanilla sex like anyone else but one day I saw by mistake a BDSM porn and I was doomed. Second mistake of my life.

Here I am now, after a night out with a few friends of mine. Stunned by the hot guys out there, the best one half naked dancing on the floor, I still ask myself why I am so stupidly shy and I don’t simply jump on them like anyone else does.
Again I think of my life and the fact I never had a real boyfriend is sort of a problem. So I ask myself why and there it goes the third error.
Analysingis anal indeed. Is a retentive option, is an holding back something. You digest your problem, you break them in small pieces.
Yet your ass still need some action for people understand, when they see you, that you’re quite weird.
Oh how funny is the power of chastity (not self or other imposed… just coincidental)

What’s me in me

I know I make mistakes. We all do, isn’t it? We are human after all. But what I know now is what I need, which can be sometimes different from what I want and it can lead me to make some mistakes.
What I am looking for is a degree of trust, so to speak. A degree of trust, as I spoke in the previous post, that can put me in a position to trust a person with my life, somehow. From that point, as I see it, everything is possible.
The problem is how to get to that point, for no one seemed able to make me feel his presence, his wisdom, his understanding completly.
For is as simple as this, I want to feel I am understood, completly. That nothing is hidden, that everything is clear.
In this process, I admit, I scavenge my own emotions to an excess. There is something that doesn’t leave me rest, inside of me, something always looking for questions and explanations and always fearing the worst.
Once I realized this, you might think, it’s easy to overcome it, isn’t it? Nothing so far from the truth, for once you find that part of you, you have to deal with it and keep it sedated somehow, but it will never truly rest, it will exert always a kind of influence on you.
So, for me, the answer was simple: since I can’t tame it, let’s run it wild and let’s see where it goes. And here I am, writing on a blog about me and my desired and my kinks. In doing this though I didn’t foresee what could happens with my emotions, for leaving everything to itself arose a lot of unforeseen feelings that I had my hard time to calm down.
But it’s not ending here. Since I don’t have any more the compass of my own feelings, I thought that being honest and sharing them would be the only thing to do… like saying to someone “Ehi, I’m here, I’m difficult, this is what I feel, can you help?” And again this was a mistake.
Of course there is someone who can help, but their help will have to have the same degree of trust required above and so, basically, the serpent bites his tail.

Here we are, alone again eventually, thinking exactly why I did this and that and what went wrong, why I didn’t feel any more protected or cared.
Although my mind, being of a masochistic kind, will push me to think that everything is simply my fault, ipso facto showing me how deeply I am punishing myself making this body and this mind unreachable from any one, I must say that my heart says something different.
Not fully understood, to be honest, but different. It says that I have to keep going, that this is my yellow brick road.
I just need a couple of stuffed companion for OZ is not very far.
Hopefully.
If I only had a brain!

On little things like trust

This week have been pretty interesting. Through training and experiences and also confrontation with other people, I came to realize my place.
The formation of a slave mind, I guess, must be at least difficult.
What I can say happened in my life I didn’t assume it was a very typical submissive dynamic, as it looks like it is.
With this I am not saying that all the subs and all the slave are similar, far from me to think like that… we do share something though, not only the need of obey.
I am very interested in what happens in our mind at a certain point. Like me, right now, that I realized I am what I am – a slave craving for his Master – and looks like other things are loosing their importance somehow. It hasn’t be a sort of epiphany to be honest, it was just very gradual… and the wind of change was an emotional one, when I was angry and sad for someone too distant, feeling his absence like a real pain.
I never had this feeling before and that made me think something was different, something was changed. My crave for worship, my desire for control, were just exposed and took contro. I had to sort out myself to avoid to feel even more pain. It was interesting though, very interesting indeed.
But what made me change my mind and look for this life is of a simple spiritual matter.
So I guess we should define what’s spiritual and what’s not… and here it’s the problem, how to connect BDSM to a spiritual path.
It’s not a problem for me, I can see the connections, it’s a problem to explain maybe. But I’ll try.
A spiritual path is, simply, a very personal experience of something more than the mere physical word. I am not intrinsically saying that there is another world or another plane of existence, for I don’t know that for sure, what I am mainly saying is that this are personal experience of a different type of ones we everyday have. I don’t necessarily believe in God or a certain amount of Gods, I just merely state that our brain can be set to a different pattern somehow and that lead us to see the world in a different way, to even experience it under a completely absurd point of view. Something very similar to what a recreational drug can produce.
I guess we all agree on the fact is a purely biochemical reactions… being endorphins or adrenalines or a cocktail of hormones, it’s a biochemical reaction started by our brain/cortex/whatever since every emotion/reaction/whatever is basically a cocktail of hormones.
That being said, what I felt one day, under a heavy session of flogging, was a sort of ecstasy. I sensed there was something more behind that door.
Ok, we all agree that it’s nice to cum like mad, we all agree that whips are nice, nipple play is wonderful and so on…
But what if that is nothing compared to what can happen when in that state? When the pleasure takes all your body?
They call it subspace and that’s indeed a deep spiritual experience. You’ve never experienced it? Neither I completly, I just sensed it was there but something stopped me before going. I wasn’t ready to let myself go, I wasn’t in the right hands to understand what was happening.
So is that what’s behind the corner? The feeling of ownership growing to be even a feeling of complete possession? The pleasure of pain to the ecstasy of it? I’ll see. I’ll let you know.

In the meanwhile what I have is just music.

uh oh

work work work. a slave schedule can be so tight and unmerciful? ah!
so for today no real thoughts or updated.
just really to fill in my daily blog duty.
I guess there’s no way one can be perfect every day, isn’t it?
or perfect anyway.

one simple word

today I read this:

Talking, expressing viewpoints, and asking questions are what the sub does

(taken from here)

and it made me think. Me being a sub is something that I’m still processing. I know I know, we are not all exceptional, we are all somehow similar, we are human, we have the same mind processes somehow, we share a lot of culture. We are all different, yes, but at the same time we are all similar.
Yet, to be honest, I fail to think the “being a sub” thing as a whole world of people sharing something similar, even similar mental processes.
I have to say that being reminded of that is somehow very salutary for me and that phrase catched an issue I’m having in these days and now I guess it might be a sub thing.
These days I’m just thinking too much, putting too many things under the microscope, dissecting too many thoughts and emotions. But then maybe is simple part of my role? is simple part of being a sub that leads me to express myself, to ask questions to talk?
Is that so simple?
I find fascinating how much I like when someone just put an end to my thought with a belt or a word or a simple slap… putting me into place. But then what if that talking, that expressing, is part of being a sub? what if it’s simple a measure of defence, a last beacon of hope?
Intriguing. Again we take a turn and we go back to magic, where words are simply as this: power.
And stripping a sub of words, it’s maybe just that, stripping him of power.

I know my place, I know what I am. So why it must be so difficult sometimes?
I guess the reason is quite simple: I still have to find someone able to tame me completly, someone able to make me feel the way is should feel always, not only during a session or a meeting of any sort.
The search so is not completely over. It’s somehow half completed but still a work in progress.
I want my Master’s hand on my body now. To find any secret I hide in my soul, through my skin.

I feel abandoned. And I’m not even sure I’m spelling it right.
Lacking everything as I am today, I go to sleep with a sense of wonder. What will I find on the other side of the lethe?

A life of loneliness leaves scars, somehow. I’m trying to learn to live with a few of them, others are simply too deep to even stare at.
What makes me feel this craving for total understanding then? What makes me feel so deep the need of strong guidance? What makes me desire to be so open?
Maybe is what I never experienced, what I never saw. For my soul was never touched deeply enough, for my hunger was never satisfied.
I want more, always. What I have is not enough for what I have is not in any way something I cannot understand.
What I look for is that one able to understand me even beyond my own idea of myself, someone to make the right choice for me. As silly it can be, the price I pay is just for this: to be understood totally.
And every rope, every whipping, every belting is just a matter of forcing myself into this… being able to be so open I don’t have to speak anymore. Being just me.
How jolly is that?