Herd mentality

If you are looking to get married and be married for a lifetime I strongly recommend marrying a partner who is interested in talking to you at depth. Engaging conversation is the mainstay of my marriage. It doesn't matter what topic he opens or I open, we can end up talking for hours and hours. You won't ever find us sitting opposite one another in a restaurant wondering what there is left to say.

This morning I opened up a conversation about a character. It's sad but I'm afraid it is what writer types do. He listened and then he made a 'spot on' remark.

"It's like a marble in a bowl. It will eventually come back to the centre."

"Exactly! This girl is White Anglo Saxon Protestant. She's a good time girl. She wasn't ever going to be able to take a lifetime of melancholia or sacrifice."

"It's not her."

"Yes. That's not her."

"Often, in the early twenties, a young person has to go and experience something else; to be sure who they are, they have to go and experience something wilder than themselves."

"Yes, she did that and realized that the wild side wasn't going to work for a lifetime. She needed safety, familiarity; comfort."

"Well, it's not safe to stray away from the herd. That's when you get eaten."

And, so it went. He expounded his theories about primal instincts, one of his pet topics and I told him that it seemed that more men were wanting to express submission than women, according to my research. That's when he expounded on his theories of there being a scale of femaleness and a scale of maleness and that I just happened to be to the far left of femaleness.

It's true. I am to the far left of centre on the scale of femaleness. I do believe in achievement in life. I believe in making a day count, whatever that means to the individual. However, I have the strongest urge to express my nature; the strongest desire to be aroused and to let my nature unfold; to relax into that state where I am fed upon; where I give of myself freely and where I receive the dominant energy that  allows me to be so unencumbered; so free.

This matters a great deal to me. Without expressing this nature of mine I feel restless and at times ambivalent. Expressing my submissive nature fills me with some sort of feel-good endorphins that allow me to enjoy all facets of life.

And yet, words whisper in my ear regularly enough to give me pause.

You must never tell. You must never tell a soul...

The doll must keep her council if she is to be safe; to express herself in ultimate safety. Trust for her is paramount. She must not stray too far from the herd.  She must always be protected and nurtured. This is the role of the dominant: to keep her safe; to protect her; to ally her fears and allow the doll to thrive.

Doll features

The mind of a doll is rather simple. She's an objectified thing and therefore she doesn't think too deeply or too much. The doll's mindset enables her to switch off from everyday concerns, to put the world aside for a period of time and zero in on rather slutty thoughts.

There's no denying that the doll is a slut. What she does and how she does it all relates to allowing her to be that which society would shun. As the doll, she is in a state of constant arousal. Basically, whatever allows her to feel her dolly state is allowed. Whatever doesn't allow her to sink into that space is not.

I hope it doesn't need repeating that the doll doesn't dress in such a way as her appearance would be considered slutty. To the contrary, the doll's mindset cannot be identified by the way she grooms and dresses at all. Her preference is skirts and dresses, of course, but they aren't the kind of garments one associates with a slut.  There are some hints, to be sure, but she's neat, clean, well dressed and groomed on the streets. What happens beneath her skirt is another thing but she raises limited suspicion from passers by as to her status.

The doll is subject to suggestion. She sees things and hear things and her simple, little mind processes them in her own unique way. She sees her acrylic nails all day and every day. Over time, she wonders what it might feel like and look like for them to be really long. Thoughts that were originally out of the question become intoxicating and one day she says to herself, "I want really long nails. I want to put my dolly state on display!"

The thought surprises her as much as it might other people. Where did this idea come from? And, why this day? There are no definite answers to this question, except to say that she has finally succumbed to the idea of very long and oh so slutty nails. This is her idea at her instigation.

She goes down to the salon and asks for a new set of nails. She's cool as a cucumber, steadily breathing, full of excited anticipation, until it is time for the man to bring out the cutters to cut down the extraordinarily new long nails. It's her move.

"Peter, what if they were an inch long?"

He demonstrates zero resistance to the idea.

"You want an inch?"

"Yes."

"Okay."

He cuts them down and to the doll's eyes they look even sluttier than she had expected. Once he has cut them he moves away to do a quick manicure for a little girl who has come in with her mother. This gives the doll time to take out her little ruler and measure them. They are more than an inch. They are even longer than she asked for. The man returns.

"Peter, I don't know. Do you think they are a bit long?"

"You want shorter?"

"A tad."

He cuts the nails to such a miniscule degree the doll can barely see any nail coming off at all. He clearly approves of the length. He clearly understands he is dealing with a doll!

It's time now for the final stage and he asks the doll if she wants clear polish as usual or color?

"Clear, please. Or, should it be color this time (to hide all that slutty white nail)?"

"No. Clear."

(Peter is a man of few words.)

"Okay."

The die is cast. It's clear. It's sluttsville all the way.

It's been a week now since that fateful day. It's impossible for the doll not to notice her claws. It's impossible for the doll to act abruptly, hastily; without showing due care. It's impossible for her to do some tasks herself and the dumdum dolly has to ask for help.

It's impossible for the doll not to be reminded a hundred times a day that's she's a doll; a slutty object ready and available for use.

It's lovely.

Dracula and his victim

In  a power exchange there is the possibility for an infinite amount of control; an infinite amount of transformation. Once the trust is established and secured there is endless opportunity to explore the energy created from giving to another and taking from another.

An article I read recently about Dracula referred to "an uncanny collaboration between vampire and female victims" and those words spoke to me because it isn't true that one person takes and the other gives in some neat formula. The word "collaboration" is what is important here.

When I first read about submission I took umbrage at the word 'service'. I'd been serving my family's needs for quite some time on an hour by hour basis so I didn't feel that my innate desire to express my submissive nature related to wanting to serve. To the contrary, my inclinations were to receive: to receive love, attention, affection. I'm not adverse to being spoiled.

I think I missed an important factor in the power dynamic there. When you burrow deep down into a sense of comfort in the dynamic the desire to serve, to please, to impress and to make happy abounds. It is simply there. This desire compounds and grows as the dynamic shifts into a smooth running gear; when the resistance is very low and one's place well understood, accepted and enjoyed.

This sense of wanting to please the other opens pathways previously unconsidered. I want to show that pathway and yet it is so difficult to demonstrate the process on a web journal page. The '"victim" discovers, to her surprise, that what the "vampire" wants is what she wants as well but I can't express that in any other way, I strongly suspect, other than with dialogue. Only the dialogue can express the perfect synergy of the vampire and his victim; the mutual feeding taking place.

The connection between them is so great that the two minds merge. The "victim" is reliant on the energy of the vampire and gives of herself freely. The giving of herself is, in fact, more than a gift; a sacrifice. She gives happily; readily; consistently. She gets off on giving not because she is the good submissive (although hopefully she has become that too) but because his darkest urges and desires have become her darkest urges and desires.

This is to imply that "Dracula" is dark (bad) and the "female victim" the light (good) - that one entity has influence over the other and undue influence at that. I've not a doubt that "Dracula" has powers of persuasion difficult for the female victim to ignore or deflect. She is drawn to him; helplessly. Yet, I'm not convinced that hidden below the surface of the "victim" is the not the already present desire to be fed off; the desire to be made to do Dracula's bidding. Perhaps it is possible that "the victim" lured Dracula to do his worst.  What would the feminist readings of this story make of that, I wonder. 

The philosophy behind IT

Since my research of BDSM encompassed all sorts of philosophies and mindsets it took me quite a while to figure out where I fit. I was particularly unsure about the differences between 'submissives' and 'slaves' and I'd read the definitions over and over trying to get it straight as to what or who I was. However, I don't think my mind ever really strayed from the notion that I definitely wanted more than to be submissive in a sexual way; only in the bedroom, so to speak. I'd read that category and feel immediately that this was not going to be enough for me.Within the training and the acceptance of all things 'doll' I found what I had been looking for; the philosophy of living out my life that made sense for me.

Instinctively, I understood that I wanted to be 'owned'. I honestly don't recall any degree of resistance or negative reaction to that word at all. I may have forgotten it if I did. When I agreed to be 'trained' I had a bit of 'hair trigger' anger going on and I do distinctly remember being darn mad about the comment that I needed to be tethered when I was angry. I remember saying that a person who was angry needed to vent and he responded that he agreed; that an angry woman should vent all she wished but that for her safety she needed to be tethered whilst doing so. I could feel the bile rising when I read that. Speaking of barking dogs needing to be tethered for their safety (an analogy he used) I wanted to tell him to get 'dog knotted'. Instead, I said that I needed to go. Even at the beginning of training I was aware on one level that it wouldn't pay to let my anger get too out of hand with him.

Over time, I learned that I needed to do much more than not express my anger in inappropriate ways. I needed to walk the tightrope of being honest and open at the same time as I kept a hold of my anger. I came to appreciate that there is a marvelous sense of satisfaction for a man in seeing that a woman is trapped. She understands that it is her duty and her place to accept and obey commands. Even though she may be reveling in her capture, in spite of some discomfort potentially, she has mixed emotions about the fact that the man is radiating in her mixed state of mind. How much fun to have control of a doll, so perverted that she revels in her own demise; that she knows full well that displaying a peak of anger will result in correction she does not want! What a devilishly dirty trick to say things to the doll that she knows she must not respond to, if she has a healthy respect for her fate.

"Wuts da dolli goin 2 do bowt it?" is the sort of question that she might be asked; caught, captured, bound. There's a little bit of resistance going on here but the game is enticing; intoxicating for her too. You must trust me on this. It's the sort of moment that dolls live for. Oh, I think I've digressed.

I can't speak for younger women but I think that older women, born in a different culture to the one today in so many ways, understand that marriage was for a reason. A woman, back then anyway, instinctively understood the benefits of ownership and it wasn't a particularly negative term in her mind. If you were his wife, then he was your husband, you see. Of course, generalizations are useless but with less equality back then, this was one area where there seemed to be mutual benefit. If I look after him, then he'll look after me. How that notion looked to each couple I cannot say but in my mind was the understanding that marriage was something that I wanted. So, being 'owned' wasn't a stretch for me. I wanted to feel owned and I wanted to serve.

The creation of the 'fucktoy' takes us much further in philosophy; much, much deeper, but not necessarily problematically. First, there must be the understanding that one's body belongs to the owner; that the holes are for his use. If the training is done well, the object realizes that although it is about the owner's happiness, use is what the doll wants; needs; requires. The whole idea is to entice the owner to use her; to keep her well oiled and serviced. There was nothing about this idea I didn't like. The new terminology - pussycunt, asscunt and mouthcunt - turned me on. I loved (and love) to use those words. I love to be used; to sink down in my mind to a place that arouses my body and provides great pleasure for us both.

The idea of permanent changes to the body really excited me although I went slow, reticent about how my owner would feel about this sort of thing, probably needlessly. Somehow or other I never managed to get 'owner tags' (nipple rings) but I intend to. Removal of some pubic hair, long fingernails, anal training, longer hair - all these changes turned me on. I love to feel like a fucktoy and to think like a fucktoy.

So, to return to my opening remarks, feeling like a fuck toy (or doll) 24/7 is really my goal. Most importantly, I don't want difficult times, times of academic pressure and long work hours to interfere with this mindset. I want to hold onto the doll state of mind no matter what is happening in my life.

Whatever rules I live by I live by for this reason  - to have one all consuming and all abiding philosophy with which to live my life - that I am owned, that I must do that which entices my owner; that I must obey commands and live according to my nature. It is not for everyone but it absolutely turns me on. Living with a turned on, happy and peaceful woman, it turns out, is exactly the all consuming philosophy that suits my 'owner'  as well.

On a day to day level, it is resisting the impetus to put all my focus into my work and family during peak times of activity that is the goal I have yet to master. Accepting with all my heart and mind that I do best in the doll state, even when tackling difficult tasks or coping with time limits and deadlines as well as the demands of family life is my Achilles heel, sometimes.  Being a doll is not something that you pick up and put down as life alters but rather a state of mind (and body) that one lives with 24/7. Some concessions can be made (asked for, at least) according to the needs of the doll but removing oneself from the dolly state of mind altogether for periods of time is a slippery slope and one that leads to grazed knees. I know this but at times I still do falter. But, I'm getting there...inching closer to an ideal state, thank goodness.

The other side

I was immediately attracted to this photograph. I grew up on these sort of images. As a young girl, my best friend and I would study the latest Vogue and see page after page of photographs of serene looking and beautifully dressed and coiffed women. It helped that my best friend's mother had a hair salon and we often went there to get the latest hair do.  A few years later found us at a 'deportment school' and somewhere or other I still have the little prize I was given there for coming 'Top of the Class',  I think it was.

So, you see, right from the get go I was really made for the dolly state of mind. I love to be 'at one' with my home. I love to arrange the flowers, to make a meal from scratch, to have a dinner party, to be alone at home; me and my house. Sometimes my husband will come home at the end of the day and say, "Look at you, all dressed up and nowhere to go!" because I often do change into something nice in the middle of the day - get all 'dolled' up. I think that harks back to the fact that my mother often changed her clothes for evening and I must have taken note of that and stored it away.

Of course, the other side to dolls is that men like to mess them up. The more time and effort the girl has gone to to make herself attractive, the more 'together' she looks, the more he enjoys defiling the well presented, domestic goddess. There are two sides to every story and certainly two faces to many women. But, it's pleasing (and a tease) to present oneself immaculately, I think, and have them wondering if there's another side.

Wanting everything

On  a practical level, it's impossible to separate myself from the woman who is a wife, a mother, a daughter, a sister, a friend, the owner of dogs. It takes a lot of time out of my life to fulfill my responsibilities because it is important to me and to them that I fulfill those responsibilities well. If the people in your life don't matter enough to you to give them a good deal of your time, then it's hard to know what else could matter more. At least, that's the way I see it and the way I live my life. My strong tendency is to sort all that out and when everybody seems relatively comfortable about all that, I can do my own work.

Now that I'm doing a writing course which at times really stretches my knowledge banks, I've had to, at times, explain that I can't do any more at this time; that I really must sit down and absorb myself in my reading and writing. To put it in perspective, for the last year or so I've done 62 weekly assignments without even one week's break. I have been asked to learn something quite new to me and to demonstrate that learning by handing in an assignment complete with references to prove that I have indeed done the reading and absorbed the new material and now have new skills.

I've also completed 5 major assignments all of which have taken considerable research, planning and writing. There really is never a day or even hardly an hour when at the back of my mind is not the thought that, like a good little circus dog I have to jump through a hoop; have to face my demons of feeling inadequate and come up with the goods to impress a Professor yet again.

The current subject is daunting for me, at least, at the moment. Here I am trying to write my very first adaptation, barely knowing what an adaptation is whilst students in my group talk of having "shot" an adaptation last Sunday and knowing this and that producer. I read something like that and think 'Oh. My. God. What am I doing here? What am I trying to prove?'

Yet, I really love learning and I love making myself face my demons. I work with my insecurities, insisting of myself that I put one foot in front of the other and just keep moving forward. Some days are brilliant and I feel 'on fire' with it and some days like now (can you tell?) I am cloaked in dismay of what I don't know and how old I am to be attempting this in the first place. If I walked away (and I don't intend to do that) no-one would be bothered about it particularly. No-one is relying on me to bring home the bacon from this new knowledge and when I enrolled into the course the idea was that I get some intellectual stimulation from it; nothing much more than that really was thought necessary in order to validate the exercise.

There is no necessity that I get Distinctions and High Distinctions, yet I can't stop that being my goal (a goal I have so far achieved). Would a Credit or a Pass be a disaster? Of course not. "Ps get degrees" my oldest's son's closest friend advised me. And, I actually put stock in his counsel. He's a young man who has impressed me with his ability to make every post a winner. My son tells me he is onto his second "project" (I call them his 'transformations') and I knew right then that I was talking to a Dominant in the making (something I had always suspected anyway). We warmed to one another immediately and I immediately recognized his nature. We chat sometimes online and every interaction has been 'spot on'; dripping with dominant qualities and a specific sense of humor. But, I digress.

My husband was playing with me earlier today, as he likes to do on a Sunday morning. I was perfectly compliant and enjoying myself on one level. Yet, I couldn't turn off the chatter in my mind, of all that I had to do; of how I was starting to feel that I was already getting behind in this subject and how the activities all week had kept me distracted from my reading.

My husband came up to me just now and said, "If the children weren't here I would tie you to the desk and you wouldn't be able to move until all your work was done." Yes, that's the sort of thing that I think would work. I'd feel contained at the same time as I got my work done. A command that I do my work is probably what I need right now. (Oh, so you noticed, I'm writing this post instead of doing my reading!!?)

I want very much to incorporate a doll state of  mind into my every day but that competes with the need to do well in this course. My thinking  brain competes with my desire to be a domestic goddess of sorts; for the food to be delicious and the flowers beautifully arranged; for my body to be switched on and my brain hungry for use. Yes. Yes. Yes. I want everything. What's wrong with that!?

Doll dives deeper

It is a few years now since I was introduced to the notion that there was, perhaps, a dolly inside the girl; inside me. The notion immediately excited me, although I didn't necessarily understand exactly what that meant. But, I gravitated to it immediately and with the emergence and expression of each little new aspect of the doll, as I grew closer and closer to the feelings of the doll, I became happier. I have learned that there really isn't any aspect of embracing the doll into my life that I don't love. It makes me softer, more patient and understanding, more alive and very definitely, much more happy to feel my 'dollness' ever present in my life.

One aspect of the doll that I hadn't quite understood in a full and encompassing way until recently was that the doll is really always switched on, under the right regime. I'd understood that she understands that she was always to be ready for use, bur I hadn't fully understood that she may always be switched on herself (itself?); that she isn't necessarily ever in 'girl' mode; that the doll has to learn and understand that she (it?) has no choice but to accept the state of arousal 24/7 and to learn to work with that arousal; to work through it and to sleep through it; not at all an easy thing but a required thing and something that the doll eventually accepts as her way of life. I've learned that you can't fight it; you have to simply 'let go'.

The girl has to do real life girl things and there is no getting around that. But, the doll may be ever present in the girl's life and the mind of the girl may be aware of the doll inside her; aware of her sexuality, of her desire for control, of her acquiescence and of her constant readiness in mind and body to be taken.

I've been working away at incorporating this mindset into my life, at pushing the boundaries of my mind and my body and I find it a profoundly uplifting experience; one that makes my spirits soar. The more confined the doll feels, the more this woman floats. I think it must be that accepting myself for who I am has sustained me and allowed me to reach deep into my subconscious and embrace myself for all that I am. I have certainly never experienced such a coming together of my mind, body and spirit in any other way.

A friend yesterday told me of her sense of a lack of purpose in life at this time now that she is not working. I was sympathetic, of course, but the doll knows her purpose without a shadow of a doubt. Feeling myself and being able to express that entity, finding the deep sense of relaxation that that knowledge brings to my life is a priceless gift that I will always cherish.

I've no way of knowing how many dolls there are out there. I've come across only a handful of other examples in my life of this incredibly happy place for a woman in complete surrender; this deep deep need for use and for control. No doubt there are many others out there and yet it's clear I'm in a category all of my own with this web journal. I don't fit at all neatly into any category out there; not the spanking community, or DD or HoH. I've plenty of readers still and maybe they too are looking for a way into their doll, or perhaps they are doll makers who have a doll or want a doll.

The word 'objectification' doesn't terrify them or make them squirm for they know already, consciously or subconsciously, that this is how they want to feel too. One or two of these people have corresponded with me over time and it is always brilliant to read how two slightly odd (I know I am slightly odd!) people have come together to make a perfect fit. It always delights me. Dreams really can come true, if you are open to them.

Free will

Last night on Q & A the debate was about how to manage asylum seekers and then the subject matter turned to 'submission in marriage'. This isn't something that you see every night on Australian television and I listened with amazement as Peter Jensen, Anglican Archbishop of Sydney laid out his argument for women submitting to their husbands.

This was more about the men than the woman, he suggested. If a man makes a commitment to a woman to lay down his life for her, so to speak, then perhaps it is appropriate, if she so wishes, for her to submit to his authority. That's not a direct quote but I don't think the Archdeacon would disagree with the sentiment.

Of course, the sentiment on the panel, in the television studio amongst the audience and at home via Twitter updates demonstrated loud and clear that his proposition was overwhelmingly rejected. One of the major reasons why people were so aghast was because he suggested that perhaps gay people had a shorter life span. They also took umbrage that 'submission' should be along gender lines and people in loving relationships who chose not to marry were offended that their commitment was seen to be less serious than those who chose to say their marriage vows in public.

It became quite ugly really because Catherine Deveny was quite rude and intolerant and Chris Evans, Minister for Tertiary Education suggested that he had an ulterior motive for raising the debate and thought it entirely "inappropriate". It was a public lynching of sorts.

As someone who has a submissive nature and who takes great pleasure in a sense of submission I must admit that I wasn't at all comfortable with the discussion or with the notions raised by the Archdeacon. This is an incredibly private and individual matter and I'd no sooner say that someone should  think and act like me than fly to the moon.

I happen to get great joy out of doing what I do and thinking as I do, but I don't think it is for everybody, or even a great many people. I certainly don't think that submission should be seen as something across gender lines and I don't think there should be public debate about it. I do what I do because it makes me very happy but it's a free country and it is up to individuals to sort out what is best for them. This is a matter of free will (and the desire, or not, to give it up) and not at all a matter for the Church, in my opinion.

Lust

When I 'let go' and give up all control, it feels a bit like this photograph. Whilst it may not be evident let me assure you this girl is glowing; loving every moment of surrender and being in the gentleman's care. She may be on a leash but she has no complaints. She kneels willingly, blissfully aware that nothing feels quite as good as this.

Is it that she is the centre of his attention? It could be. Could it be that to lower herself in this way is to rise to the heights of pleasure? That may be so.

For me, to relinquish control and do exactly as I'm told is to soar to heights that I can't reach any other way. I absolutely love to surrender my will. I absolutely adore the heady feeling of my body reacting to the commands. Not to move a muscle unless directed has a gorgeous feeling of release. Those commands, that rather forceful control of my mind, and then my body, switches on my mind which prepares my body for the purest of pleasure. By now, there are no thoughts at all in my head. Nothing is left but the dumdum slutti fucktoy. And, lust.

The Shadow

I've been reading about Carl Jung who outlined five main archetypes. I'm particularly interested in 'the shadow' at the present - the evil lurking within everyone, or perhaps, the dark side of the hero. Jung also talks of the 'self', and as I understand it he is talking about the unconscious and the conscious mind of the individual.

In a woman such as myself, a women with a submissive nature, there is an attraction to 'the shadow' in a man. Sure, one wants to know that he will tend and care, that he is kind and good, but as well, one wants to be in contact with 'the devil'. Such a woman wants to touch base with the unpredictable; the slightly dangerous; the man with a voracious appetite; the man who likes 'pretty' but who also likes to defile 'the pretty'. For many years this thought was deep within my subconscious until I embraced it and recognized it as part of my conscious understanding.

Whilst it is widely accepted that a woman with a submissive nature is expected to be 'well behaved', this is not always possible. She needs to tap into 'the shadow' and if it is not available to her, she will do (consciously, or, most likely subconsciously), whatever she needs to do to have that shadow return to her life.

'The shadow' provides her with the energy she requires. If there is a female Dracula, she is it - drinking blood from the man's shadow - her life force - that with which she must make contact to live and thrive.

Perhaps it is accurate to say that both the man and the woman have a 'shadow' - a dark side, and that one dark side requires the other. I am sorry to be the one to say that although the submissive woman may appear on the outside as some sort of Pollyanna, the simple fact is that her shadow is as dark as the man to whom she is attracted. Should you attempt to deny her your shadow, her fangs will become noticeable. She must have what she must have, one way or the other. It would be wise not to deny her.

With Ringo

It is not often that I write in a particular state but since I am sitting at my desk in that particular state, I'll document my thoughts. I'm aware of the big pluggi stretching me out. It's not really possible to focus on anything else. When I squeeze my muscles around the plug, or when they involuntarily squeeze themselves, as they regularly do, I'm aware of the plug controlling me.

A large anal plug is challenging and the mind wrestles with itself. One could go and take it out and experience a degree of comfort and relief but is that what I really want?  I've been here before, of course. Each size plug, from the smallest I've worn to the very large one I am wearing as I type these words has been a challenge. Each time, I have needed to wrestle with my mind and my resolve. I've had to learn to accept that I don't (if I am to be true to my desires and my natural state of living) have a choice; that I am controlled and that I crave that control and very much want it.

I've had times with no plug; times with no control and I can say, without a shadow of a doubt, that I am less than half of what I am capable of being with considerable control over me; when the choices are taken away; when I experience the sense of dominance and acquiesce to it.. I am more sexually inclined, more content with life and more at peace with my life when I experience a very deliberate and quite intense control.

Control comes in various forms. I've experienced anal training of course and I've experienced the giving of regular pain; sometimes for discipline in order to correct, but much more often because it has seemed I'd do well to receive it.. I rally to either form of physical control over me and I rally even more when I have both forms of control. I'm not adverse, however, to more subtle forms of control. I prefer to narrow my choices of wardrobe, for example. I prefer less to more.

The intellectual side of my brain may attempt to take control because that is what the intellectual side of my brain is designed to do. Do I want to win? Oh, that would be a diabolical result. No side of my brain would be at all happy with that outcome. I've experienced that and believe me, it's a Pyrrhic victory. Me without a sense of control is a sad thing. I'm here, but just. I just don't feel at all right. I've had plenty of time to think about this and I assure you it's not a desired goal for this woman. 

The thing about the doll state is that even though there is minor resistance when presented with a new challenge, dolls understand they are dolls. There is no sense of jealousy that they're not girls with clever thinking brains. Dolls actually understand that being a girl isn't a life that is going to work for them. They've seen the holy grail and why would they drink from any other cup when the one they have is filled with the elixir of life?

(Of course, sometimes I need to think, but time is allowed for thinking and doing. There is no harm done; in fact a lot of good to come out of allowing me to think intellectually, but for limited times and in limited ways. The more time as doll the more doll is present throughout the day, at any time of the day.)

I haven't the tiniest clue what made me this way. All I can say is that it makes me extraordinary happy to have the opportunity to feel this completely certain that  this is how it was always meant to be. 

Just when I thought I was out...

Ever since I began my writing for assessment in my course I've handed in something at least a little bit kinky, or at least with something naughty about the story. This time, I was committed to playing it straight and work with a narrative entirely non-kinky. The Marriage Plot by Jeffrey Eugenides was entirely appropriate, I decided, to launch myself into real literature and to give smut a break. I determined that to be a serious writer that is what I needed to do. Work with the material of a Pulitzer Prize winner and a writer of whom I am in awe and I was heading on the right track, was my estimation.

Ah! But, I would not be entirely right at all. For Jeffrey is perfectly capable of a little smut himself and he handles the material deftly.

One night in their unit, Leonard asked "What's your most secret sexual fantasy?"
...

To placate him, Madeleine thought for a moment, "This'll sound weird, but I guess it would be to be pampered."

...

And, for the next hour or so, Leonard went about fulfilling it.
\...

She was frightened to ask Leonard what his secret fantasy was. But in the spirit of reciprocity, a day or so later she did ask. Leonard's fantasy was the inverse of hers. He wanted a sleeping girl, a sleeping beauty.

...

Well, that was easy," she said afterward.

"You got off lucky. It could have been a slave-master sort of deal."

"Right."

"It could have involved enemas."

"Enough!"

The spirit of exploration that now dominated their bedroom had a strong effect on Madeleine. It led her, a little while later, to confess to Leonard one night, when he wanted to repeat the hairdresser scenario that being pampered wasn't really her secret fantasy. Her *secret* secret fantasy was something she'd never told anyone and could barely admit to herself. It was this: whenever Madeleine masturbated (this was hard in itself to confess to) she pictured herself as a little girl, being spanked. She didn't know why she did this. She had no memory of being spanked as a girl. Her parents hadn't believed in spanking. And it wasn't really a fantasy of hers; that is, she didn't want Leonard to spank her. But, for some reason, thinking about herself as a little girl being spanked had always helped her to have an orgasm when was touching herself."

So, here's what I think about all that.

(1) The writing in this scene turns me on much more than the writing in 50 Shades of Grey.
(2) I'm feeling slightly all powerful and am not at all inclined to tell you if Leonard does spank Madeleine (but could be bribed to do so...).
(3) I really really want to work with this narrative source now.
(4) All through the book I had this sense that Madeleine felt rather like me. The above is evidence of this fact.

So, as Al Pacino would say, "Just when I thought I was out, they pull me back in."

Re-emergence

My husband went to see a doctor to whom he had been referred, a sort of "wellness" expert and he had a lot to say, apparently, about the brain being the "engine of the body" and how when we have worries, we need to empty the brain. We can do this is various ways, he said. It pays to have at least two people with whom to unload and it pays to journal. He wants people to write it all down and then, probably throw it away. In other words, a lot of garbled emotions are bound to come out, not suitable for the consumption of others and so, write it and then chuck it.

I haven't thought about my writing in this way. I have used the air waves to try to modulate what comes out of my mind via my fingers; to use the fact that others will read it to try to be clear headed and to try to not allow my emotions to get away with me.

Interestingly, lately I haven't felt that I can share my thoughts in quite the same way as I have done in the past. It's been a very tough year for me at home. My husband has been very unwell, but I see that, for the meantime at least, he's really much better. The emotional pain was better left alone; better that I handle it in my very personal way, which is fundamentally, to retreat into myself and to find my strength to live my life as best I could in the new way that presented itself to me. Without an "owner" at hand, I've just done the best I could on my own.

My husband has, quite suddenly, sprung to life. He wants to re-engage and he said to me this morning that I seem a bit removed. I don't mean for that to be the case. I guess it is my mind trying to process the new situation.

I enjoy being controlled. I've missed the dynamic between us a great deal.It's been harder than I dare put into words to not have that in my life and I had to retreat to a place in my mind where it was less painful for me; to live out my life nearly all this year as if our love was platonic. I understand that this isn't necessarily representative of the reality as it might be seen by him. He was ill and probably didn't see it as I saw it. But, for me it was a petit mal. I was in some sort of grief state and words spilled out onto the Internet, I decided, were not going to help.

If he is ready to re-connect with me in this way, obviously, I'm more than delighted. I tend to take a while to come right out of the burrow in trying times; never quite sure when the danger has passed. If it has passed, and he tells me this morning in clear language that it has passed, then I'm grateful and ready for the doll to come back down off the shelf and lose herself in the pleasure and joy of feeling all that lovely control. That has always been where I am happiest and most authentically myself.

Germaine Greer - pain, consent, sluttiness

One of the most interesting things I did this past week was to attend a session where Germaine Greer was interviewed. Of course, she loves to be controversial and she has always been controversial. Some people worship the ground she walks on and some people have nothing but scorn for her. Either way, she packed a full (large) auditorium. When it came time for the audience to ask questions  one woman wanted her opinion on the relationship between Feminism and Veganism and whether Feminists should be seriously considering Veganism.

Germaine has never been at a loss for words and she told an interesting story of watching a python in Queensland. An animal (unfortunately I don't have in my notes what type of animal it was) had been swallowed whole by the python and was clearly evident in the python's body. Along came another one of these animals and when reaching the python, made no effort to get away from danger.

This led Germaine to ask, did the animal get the sense that there was no danger because the python was already fed, or was the prey drawn  to the predator? She had my attention. That is a fascinating question. Ultimately, she suggested that we should be "eco-feminists" - feminists also interested about the land. "I am an animal with other animals," she said.

The conversation was wide-ranging. She talked of her disdain for marriage and she did not support gay marriage. Marriage was a "breeding contract" she said and if there was not a vagina and a penis involved, there was no marriage. A breeding contract does not sanction anal intercourse, she said. It was her view that marriage should be a contract like any other contract, with sub-clauses. People needed to sit down and sort things out. Who was going to do what? No good finding out that the husband was angry that the wife didn't Hoover more than once a fortnight when at the divorce lawyer's office, she said."The best people start to behave badly in marriage," she stated. She was all for making it easier for people to live together. A co-habitation contract could work, she suggested.

She was asked why she rejected up to a dozen offers to critique 50 Shades of Grey. She said that she wasn't in the least interested in spanking or sado-masochism or relationships where people were "hooked on pain". She'd seen the damage and dread caused to people she knew and she had no interest.

But, wasn't she talking about abuse rather than relationships in which there was consent, asked the young man interviewing her? I didn't make note of a direct answer. Rather, my notes then relate to her thoughts on rape and that "the notion of consent can't effect the mechanical pursuit of what he wants to do". How can she consent in advance if his desires push him into territory of which she (or he) is unaware in advance? This led to discussion about prosecution of rape, that the burden of proof is massive and hence there are very few prosecutions. Germaine would like to see the charge of rape dropped and instead there should be a single law of serial assault.

I rarely take things personally. I'm aware I'm different to so many people and what they want but I felt sensitive sitting there in that auditorium. Wanting what I wanted seemed to be going against 'the movement'; the vibe in the room.

Then, Germaine Greer said something particularly interesting to me. She was talking about a 'Slut Walk'. She said that people had forever made a connection between loose morals and dirt. "Being dirty" was one of the biggest insults someone could give a woman. There were all those "slimy, slithery words" like "slut" and "slattern" thrown at us if we didn't do what we were expected to do; if our morals were loose. We've been "blackmailed", she said, with "dirtiness". "Stop bloody cleaning clean houses," she demanded of us. Stop accepting this blackmail!

It was a lot to take in and I'm not at all sure that some things weren't contradictory. She wanted to make it easier for people to live together but wasn't happy about people living together whose relationship involved domination and submission, even if that was a consensual relationship...
 The whole darn thing destabilized me a bit. It was not okay to be in a power exchange relationship, it seemed, but perfectly okay to want to be slutty. I left a little confused.