Obedience training

I spent the best part of Sunday stuck on a blog in tumblr. I deserve credit for achieving a massive amount of laundry but in amongst that, yes, I was absorbed in the world of a man who presents as a very strict Dominant. He is not, he says, a boyfriend. He's a Dominant. He's good enough to explain how it came to this moment in time and he's perceptive about his inclinations and mindset. He knows what he wants and he knows that many women want to give him what he wants. He is not wanting, it appears, a permanent situation, and having a wife, kids and a house in the suburbs is very far from his mind, as far as I can tell. He's urbane; a sophisticate; an educated man, interested in the Arts; creative.

I think he's real. I really do. I am less gullible than I used to be. For goodness sake, one of the people in my writing class has set up a blog not unlike this to benefit his writing practice and create a character, so anything is entirely possible. Even so, I think the man in question is pretty genuine. He's very, very consistent. So, let's assume, for the sake of the argument that he is entirely genuine.

If I could use only one word to describe his philosophy about the power exchange relationship it would be 'obedience'. No matter what else he might be asked by readers or what he might write, it all comes down to this word. In an ideal world, he writes, he would never have to punish a girl because she would be completely obedient. Since it is probably not possible for someone to be obedient all the time, and especially at the beginning of a relationship, his view is that you make sure that the first time she disobeys you the punishment is completely detestable  to the submissive. So, she might enjoy a spanking. Make sure the spanking is awful; something that she never wants to experience again. Whatever it is, make sure she hates it. It might be 1000 lines or kneeling in the corner for an hour. So long as it is a completely distasteful experience.

This sort of writing is where I began years ago in my reading. I located somewhere a man that said that as a Dominant you have to be a bit like Fonsie; create a persona of being tough, be tough once and then the power arrangement was forever clear. The man yesterday with the tumblr blog said that he'd never had to repeat the same lesson with the same girl; that thereafter he had her obedience. I wonder about that. Yes, an unpleasant experience will be memorable but will it be remembered forever? Perhaps so.

Somehow in my mind there's a difference between being in fear of someone and being quite sure of what the consequences will be for certain behaviors. This is where the (brutal) punishment spanking idea worries me as a philosophy. I can completely come to terms with being pushed beyond my limits for a spanking that is done outside of the punishment realm, but I'm not at all sure how I'd feel later about a man who took me to the realms that this tumblr blogger is suggesting he has taken girls because they were disobedient. There is a part of me that says that disobedience is a break down of the agreed dynamic of the relationship and that this must be sorted but that there are many ways to a skin a cat and many ways to get the dynamic back where it should be, for both your sakes, without having the fear button kick into place in her mind. (Or, am I being pedantic?)

Technically speaking, a harsh spanking is okay, except for the fact that I worry about the repercussions. I'm not sure how I would feel, if my feelings would be forever changed; not just my feelings about ever disobeying again and doing that thing again, whatever it may be, but my feelings about the man. That's the thing. I've been spanked soundly for being naughty (can't remember what I did) and my feelings didn't change but that's because, I think, that I wasn't spanked so soundly that I'd never do another naughty thing ever again. Maybe it would have done me good to have that sort of spanking where I forever feared another one. I'm really not sure about all this at all.

Generally speaking, my experience is that any disobedience or break down in the power dynamic is going to lead to a breakdown in the relationship overall. This tends to mean that communication is thwarted, giving me an opportunity to decide how I feel about things. And, how does that make me feel? That makes me feel that I've made a mistake and that I want to get things sorted and back to normal. It makes me want to make up and say that  I am sorry. It confirms the submission. Every mistake ultimately makes the power more present and predetermined. Every mistake makes me wanting to make no more mistakes, until one day I stop making mistakes. Until one day, viola, I'm trained! I'm the submissive, the girl who obeys and he's the Dominant, the man who has the power.

Yes, you can spank them unmercifully or you can do the hard yards and let time take it course (which is not to say that a sound spanking isn't part of the deal, by the way). If she has a genuine submissive nature, and the Dominant holds his nerve, she'll eventually see obedience as a very natural thing; a turn on; the way she desires to live.

A certain state of mind

I've had two glasses of white wine. I've read some things. I've had a conversation or two. It's been an indulgent late afternoon, in the main, and I find myself in a longing state.

I'm thinking of a time and  place where I am given a glass of wine and once the time for conversation has passed, being told to come to him. I am now on my knees in front of him as he continues to sit in his comfortable chair. I'm thinking of  a state where I am co-operative as he touches me gently on the lips with his lips, as he cups my breasts in his big paws, as he lifts my skirts and removes my panties. All the while I am co-operative, moving upon his direction; making it easy for him to achieve his goals.

I imagine him now laying me down on the carpet. I'm in a dreamy state already. Whatever he wants. I look up at him as he peruses me. Whatever you do, I think, for God's sake, manhandle me.

His erect and ready cock springs out from his pants and within seconds is deep inside of me. Lovely, life-giving cock. But, I'm older now; more submissive; more wanting; more demanding, if truth be known. I won't be satisfied until he has filled all my holes; until I feel like a completely used slut.

We began with polite pleasantries but we don't end until I'm nothing more than his whore; an object of desire; a hole that needs filling. That's the way it is these days.

The ebb and flow of the submissive mind

I managed to read an article by Remittance Girl today entitled The Ephemeral Quality of Dominance. I was impressed by the article overall but smitten by some points she made in particular.

RG writes this:

"One of the reasons I don’t identify myself as truly submissive is that I am reluctant to trust or burden anyone with the responsibility for my pleasure.  And a dominant IS ultimately responsible for it. They don’t have to read minds – they can demand communicativeness in order to take that responsibility – but that’s the deal. It’s all in their hands."

That's right. A dominant is ultimately responsible for the submissive's pleasure. It IS all in their hands and they should expect and even demand that there is sufficient communication about what constitutes pleasure such that they can take charge of creating pleasure. There is no telling when, where or how this might take place but the submissive needs to be confident enough and therefore able to trust the dominant that he will take responsibility for the pleasure (which could, of course, be pain).

In this sort of power exchange arrangement, one of the thrills is that another person is so interested in you and what constitutes pleasure for you. Even the sadists, as far I know, love the notion that they pleasure the other, on some level. It's insufficient, in my opinion, if the submissive is able to express to a submissive friend that they continue to hope that their desires will one day be played out, years and years after the agreement for power exchange has been agreed to. I've always felt that the best dominants are akin to magicians who sometimes set the stage for the submissive and allow at least one or two of his or her dreams to come true. This sort of kindness is never forgotten. This evokes trust and connection. This is worth the effort.

RG also writes this:

"Dominance isn’t physical; it’s mental. Superficially, it might be nice if you can toss your partner around in a bed, but you shouldn’t have to. If you’re in control, you can move someone with a single finger touch to the hip."

This is absolutely true. I know when I feel the surge of dominance. It only takes a word or two. Through training, I know what will happen if I don't accord with the words. Should I choose not to acquiesce to an instruction or follow through with an agreement I've only got myself to blame. The parameters have been well laid out. The deal has been struck and the ink is dry. I wouldn't dream of dismissing the dynamic now. It's the last thing I'd want. It would cause a disconnect that would be far more upsetting than any scenario or outcome I can conjure. 

I believe it is about chemistry and the lucky ones are those for whom the chemistry is right. One's orientation is not nearly enough. As I've said before, you can't dismiss 'sensibilities' and you have to trust your instincts. He may be the greatest dominant for someone else but that doesn't mean he's the dominant for you.

It takes two to tango but it should be remembered it takes work as well. If your instincts tell you that you are onto a good thing but there are still issues between you, then you have to be prepared to stretch and grow into the dynamic. He's going to be doing some molding and transforming and it's not necessarily going to be easy or comfortable all the time. There are times you might want to tell him 'thanks, but no thanks' only to realize your mind was pushing at some limit; making space for the next frontier. If there is one thing I have learned it is that under the right tutelage it is all very much worth the effort. Sometimes, it just takes time.

Another world

Where has gone my gentle man?
The music maker, the lover.
The father who cherished his children.

I am too young to be alone.
I cannot fathom a lack of touch, affection, sex.
Nor reconcile his physical abuse of me.

Still, I cannot allow the indignity of institutional care.
Not while there a cell of Malcolm left
There will be no respite for me.

No longer his wife. More like a mother.
A being that exudes care; safety.
I watch him pass over, ever so slowly.

'Just let go, Malcolm', I say,
'in the home where we loved and laughed
you are safe, my love.'

And even then, unable to drink or swallow
he lingered three long days.
Finally, Malcolm relented on life.

It was I that could not let go of him
He that could not let go of living.
An immeasurable force of will.


(I'm trying to process my reaction to a documentary I saw on early onset Alzheimer Disease and a film made about an Englishmen, Malcolm, who lived for 12 years after his diagnosis. It was deeply sad, captivating, inspiring, haunting. I don't  expect to ever forget it.)

Toys

I've been reading different material lately. I am interested in reading about different mindsets. Basically, I want to learn. Some days a sentence will capture my attention, as it did this morning.  Mistress Breeze said "he needs to understand that he's property and I own him, but he doesn't own me".  Mistress Breeze is a woman who is prepared, like me, to put her thinking out there on the Internet for other people to read and she's bravely going about analyzing herself at times; trying to figure out the best relationship for her; trying to figure out how she might take responsibility for a man, a slave, and not lose herself in the process; what she wants. What sprang to mind when I read this sentence was the ending of 'The Story of O'. Remember, she burned her cigarette into his hand?

I've also been reading a blog quite voraciously this past week. Train her well has a great deal of information to impart about training a person to accept his or her nature as a slave. I'm sure it says something about me that I love reading there. I'm not sure exactly what it says about me. However, I do know that as one is trained to embrace one's rather true (read: slutty) nature, the words on those pages resonate more and more.

Put it this way. I'm aware that a few years ago the notion of obedience, pure and simple, was not a concept that I could embrace for me personally. I think that was because, for me, (and I always put that restriction on what I say because I have no idea what works for other people) it simply was not the right time. In the vast majority of cases where a person is having trouble doing what they would like to do (aka obeying) it is because the chemistry between the two people isn't completely right. It isn't necessarily an issue of love but rather some unquantifiable 'chemistry', I think.

Honestly, I think that people who are willing to wait and who have the patience to train over protracted periods of time are very rare. I also think that you can meet many suitable people but if the instincts are telling you not to engage fully, then it's all over. You need both someone with whom you feel safe, cared for, in whom you trust and whose sensibilities suit you. Sensibilities can't be underestimated.  You can't get over these things by trying harder. It has to be a 'fit' of the two people and that's all there is to that. For example, (and I know this sounds very Seinfeld of me) if you are into a very clean and neat look and he's not, there's little you can do about the mismatch. Forever more, your brain will process this as a problem.

Then, when the fit is right, the patience on the part of the person training has to be enduring; the craft of molding a person has to be present. It takes a lot of work and careful thought and planning. It has to be fun for him or her doing the molding, too. If it's not fun at least a good percentage of the time, it won't work.

Now, of course the relationship between two people works best when their needs and wants are aligned. I've discovered over time that needs and wants can become so entangled that it is almost impossible to say where one ends and one begins. Do I want something because I want it or do I want something because the other wants it? Do I need to have something happen or do I need it to happen because the other wants it to happen? The question loses it importance when two people are so in tune that there is so definitive answer. In the end, you both want the same thing. It's fusion, really.

I think it can work a bit like this. He says that she should do x. She's not sure. He rallies her and cajoles her. She desperately wants to please and in the end she embraces the new challenge. But, it's hard, as it is meant and designed to be. She spends a little time in reverse gear. She tries, but it's hard.  She's quite flummoxed and tells him so. He assures her that he has full confidence in her. Basically, if he says that she can do it, then she should have full confidence in herself. She. can. do. it. She accepts her fate. There is no way out and even though it is hard, she must proceed. Now comes the acceptance. It's still hard but her mind has switched into another gear. She wants this. Does she want it because he wants it for her. Did she want it all along and was too afraid to say? Who cares!! The synergy is there. The obedience is in place. She's his toy and that works awfully well for both of them.

Within this sort of arrangement and mindset there is a hint of the owned and the owner. It takes time to get there. It takes a lot of carefully planned work, resolve, perseverance and enormous consistency. There isn't much place for anger or impulsiveness. It's dogged determination to do work that reaches certain goals. At least, that's the way I see it. First comes some sort of instinctual synergy about the person you are teaming up with and then comes the sort of hard work/fun that unites two people to make a team; that encourages, demands and ensures complete trust. Deep within my mind is the desire for toyhood. There's no doubt about that for me any more.

Knowing one's place

When I have more control than I want it's an unpleasant feeling. I like my husband to direct me and failing that I need him to make it clear who is, in fact, in charge. On Sunday morning he made an advance towards me and I expressed, in the mildest of ways, but enough to upset him, that I wasn't interested. He's not used to that sort of thing and later in the car he made it clear that he wasn't impressed.

The fact that he made it clear he wasn't impressed was good. I can tap into what is going on inside me very quickly and easily now and I felt pleased that he dressed me down. It would not have been good if he had let it slide. I felt some guilt and some displeasure with myself. Most of all, I felt more in my place and thus more content.

At the party, I slided over to him and kissed him on the lips. "You're fickle," he said, not entirely sure, I think, as to why I felt better when all he had done is dress me down. I am not entirely sure that he understands what makes me tick. He dresses me down because that is what comes to him naturally to do. I think. I doubt he does it because he thinks it would do me good. However, it does do me good.

This is what it is so important to remember: that if you are a certain type of woman, like me, you honestly do need to know your place. I know some people will misinterpret that statement. I know some women are not treated at all well. I don't mean that sort of 'knowing your place' - some sort of 'put down'; disrespect. I mean, that when one wants to belong, to have an owner, to feel owned, to be cherished and debased at one and the same time, then one simply must know one's place. To act in any other way with one's owner/husband/boyfriend/etc. is to feel terribly out of sync. There's a natural order to things if I am to feel authentically me.

Obedience

When I want to soothe myself or to radiate in a state of deep ease of thought I imagine myself in the owned state. My thoughts don't pass through my brain but instead I am so wired into the connection with an owner that I simply respond to his words immediately, without thought. It's this state of mind that permeates my mind when it is at deep rest, no matter what variations the moment calls for.

He might want me to train daily, or even three times a day to take a particularly large anal toy; a toy that, if I were to allow my thought processes to take over, might frighten and intimidate me. But, I'm secure in the fact that everything he has me do is right for me, is well thought out by him, and hence I don't need to give it any thought of my own.

Writing right now, with this thought deeply embedded in my psyche and in my soul I am in a state of deep peace. I feel happy. I am not effervescently happy. Rather, it is the sort of happiness when one gets deep in touch with one's own nature. The world stops. There is silence. Bliss.

Right now the word 'obedience' makes me happy. In my marriage, there are no commands. There is no opportunity to obey at this time. I understand that I am on my own in this way at this time. Yet, in my own way I can obey myself and even this is something.


I am calm. I am quiet. I am thinking gentle thoughts.

I say this many times a day to myself and feel that even though I have commanded this of myself, my obedience to this way of life is a something. My nature is not fully expressed but I do understand my nature. I recognize the loss but I am not allowing it to swamp me. On the contrary my spirits have risen. I know exactly why. To obey, to trust. That is everything to me.

More challenge

Having been 'offered' a new challenge lately and finding it extremely difficult I was searching around the Internet for inspiration when I found myself wondering if I might have written about challenge before. Indeed I had written about challenge before. I read the words and everything I felt but was finding hard to process and express were in that post. Hmmm. I'm not as dumdum as I thought.

Sexual activity

I was never going to be the type of woman who would have multiple sexual partners. I don't say that for some moralistic reason.  I recognize and accept that some people do have sex with a lot of people in their lives. I find nothing intrinsically wrong with that.

The understanding of the importance of sex in my life evolved over time. Conscious of the fact that my mind gravitated to the erotic from a very early age it took a long time for me to really understand that my nature is that of a deeply sexual being; a being that longs to let go in the arms of a wanting and willing dominant. I knew what worked for me and what did not work for me early on in the process but the acceptance of my deeply desired object state took a great many years.

Once I accepted my nature and my deep and permanent desire to reside in the object state routinely, repetitively and robustly, my time in the object state was experienced as joy; respite; relief; completion. I longed for the experience time and time again.

When the opportunity for these experiences fundamentally closed down, my mind eventually considered the option of experiencing the object state in some other way. The great difficulty with that thought was that it is very difficult for me to think of sex as being a casual thing; something instigated without a very deep connection; permanence.

It's an interesting notion that a bimbo (who is often thought of as someone who sleeps around) like me requires a certain type of sex in a certain type of way; not at all a 'free for all', but a woman who seeks an object state with a man who has deep feelings for her and who will do all in his power to protect her and complete her, both physically and psychologically.

I may fantasize about gang bangs over and over; simply radiate in the thought of a line of men who 'use' me for their pleasure, and mine. In reality, I require a very deep and abiding connection, looking only to have a man call me his own; looking to belong and to serve; to belong to one another in the deepest way possible. Such is my dilemma.

Perfection

In my experience, submitting is a 'black and white' experience. The sort of dominance that has worked for me is strict and uncompromising. If it is true that a power exchange relationship is what you do with the relationship you have, then it is only going to work with the right personalities that join as a team or partnership. It seems to me that the union of the two people is the crucial thing and in my case I have responded to the sort of dominance that takes no prisoners; that demands and expects my compliance to the rules set.

Knowing that there is no grey area I eventually accepted the rules as they were laid down. I adapted and I thrived under that sort of governance. I saw the point. I recognized the value and the good. I submitted but more than submitting, I embraced the plan. Under this sort of regime, where I comply and accept, all is so very well and good. Praise and admiration flows and the sense of connection is very strong. Happiness on both sides abounds.

But, (and there had to be a but) the day does dawn when things go slightly awry. Comfortable in my space and place, for no good reason a day is taxing; demanding; overwhelming. Comments ensue. It becomes apparent (and I feel so stupid for not recognizing how transparent it all was) that I didn't do what I am meant to do and that's why the day was doomed.

Sarcasm is the province of the dominant and I never mistake the tone, the intent or the state of mind. There's no sympathy or empathy for this submissive when she jumps on top of the rule book. Rather, left to her own devices, he knows she'll get herself back on track; remember her place; remember what works; remember how this all works.

I don't fight the 'inequality' or lack of 'fairness' now. I recognized immediately where I went wrong and that my (submissive) life wasn't about expecting understanding of a breach. A breach is a breach. How could I possibly forget this? The expectations are high but it works for me this way. I'm challenged but I greatly appreciate the challenge. The delicate and finely woven relationship requires perfection and there is something in my makeup that responds to that; that makes it the perfect arrangement for me.