Heavenly delights

When it all falls into place, when everything feels totally natural, there is no struggle at all. In the head space of the doll all instructions are good instructions because the doll doesn't struggle or have doubts or worries. She very much lets it all go and just bunkers down into that tiny teeny spot where she feels ultra comfortable and totally relaxed.

For a myriad of reasons we can feel anxious about aspects of our life. Some of us are inclined to be more anxious than others, often with good reason. Some of us had better starts than others and it's those first dozen or more years that really do dictate how tough that road will be.

How marvelous then that we have a vehicle with which to relax. In the space of the doll all commands make total sense because she's doesn't have the the slightest interest in control, or power, or struggle. She isn't worried about anything actually because she's only got one purpose. Keeping the focus this narrow guarantees that all day-to-day concerns can't fit into her head. It's such a teeny tiny space.

Not all men, but certainly some men find interacting with a woman who has let it all go, let her shoulders drop to the point where you can visually see the stress leaving her body, very relaxing as well. Oh sure, there's the voracious aspect about it - the fox with his mouth open and the saliva dripping from his jaws - but he also enjoys the fact that he is suddenly dealing with an entity without a care in the world, someone who wouldn't dream of not doing as she has been instructed.

The dolly head space, certain bars of music, vistas, words, sounds and thoughts can transform my everyday world into moments of heavenly delight and a lightness of being.  I'm really always on the lookout for those special moments that transport me above and beyond into some other planetary orbit, even if just for a few minutes, or even a few special moments. It's what keeps writers, painters, sculptors, landscape gardeners, musicians, chefs and many other creative beings doing what they do - trying to create something truly beautiful; a heavenly delight.

Obeying commands

Saturday morning. He decided to spank me, not because I'd been naughty but because he knew it would do me good. A few minutes later, he had me lie straight in the middle of the bed and he tied my hands together and then my ankles. I felt like a pencil. This was my thought.

He took the paddle now and applied it to my bottom and I sank down into that space where I like to go; that sense of letting go; that sense of warmth; of relinquishing all and any control.

After a period of time of unknown length he adjusted the ropes so that I was in the fetal position on my side. My eyes were covered and had been from the outset.

"Go to sleep," he said.

And, like the obedient girl that I am, I instantly did.

Bliss. 

Introversion

Our life here couldn’t be more different than our life in the city. We bought this little house about 10 years ago on the spur of the moment and it turned out to be a great decision. My husband had noticed the ‘For Sale’ sign from the water and he rang to make a time to see the property that afternoon.

In fact, we were the first people to see through the house since the sign went up. The real estate agent followed us around like a hawk and it was only when we were alone for a few seconds in the small bathroom that my husband whispered, “I don’t think so.” 

It was true that the house was a ‘gooby’, our word for a place lacking in style. But, in my mind the property had a lot going for it. There was a pier at the end of the garden for his old boat. The price was cheap. And, the house could be fixed up over time.

“I think it could be renovated easily,” I whispered back.

“Really?”

We said our goodbyes and began the journey home to the city, all the time talking about aspects of the property. Eventually, my husband said that in the next few days he might make an offer.

“I reckon do it right now,” I said.

“Why?” he wanted to know.

“I have the feeling you could get them to make a decision immediately. They’ve bought another house and the summer season is over. I reckon it’s worth a try.”

My husband mulled the idea over for several minutes, picked up the phone and rang the agent. He wanted to make an offer, he said, that lasted for the next one hour. There were a few calls back and forth but long before we reached the city we had a holiday home that overlooked a lake.

We’ve worked tirelessly on the property. Early on, we had a man come and put in wooden floors in all areas except those we would one day expand to make for a bigger room and a bigger balcony. We shed the windows of curtains we didn’t like, painted the entire house inside and removed many huge trees that crowded us in and blocked our view of the lake. I think we’ll always have a project because that’s a lot of what we do here, work to make it how we want.

When I am down here (in Australia, we always talk of being down on the farm) there is usually plenty of time to spare as well. That is the whole idea of being here – to live in a way we can’t in the city. We rarely use the dishwasher, unless we have a fair number of people to stay. I don’t use the Internet hardly at all. Instead, I read. This is an enormous pleasure and indulgence for me. I have just finished reading a novel in less than a week and I simply adored wasting away the mornings lying in bed.

For those of you who think you have my husband all pegged out, the dynamics of the relationship alter here. He often brings me food as I lay in bed all morning reading and writing. He goes out and chops the wood and keeps the fire stoked and he always likes to fill his trailer very high with his cuttings from the garden and take them off to the tip (dump?).

We lead a rather farm style life here where the happenings of the world seem removed from us and life boils down to the bare necessities – good, plain food; wood for the fire; clothes dried on the line and newspapers, books and the odd movie to entertain us.

When the time comes to pack up and return to life, we feel a bit as if we are being dragged by the coat tails back into society – back to routines and busy days; appointments, school runs; committees; corporate boards and world markets. We go reluctantly.

As I sit here, all I can hear is the movement of the clock, a slight whir of the refrigerator, the wind in the trees, the singing of birds and the clicking of my French manicured nails on the keyboard. There’s plenty of time to think; to daydream; to put events in their perspective. It is in these quiet moments that I reflect on the dual passions of my life: the desire to enrich my mind and my soul with fascinating people, words and ideas, as well as the desire to still my mind and let it all pass me by. I am at heart an introvert and life here suits me very well, until I hunger for more stimulation and then, it is time to move on again.

Relaxing wth strict thoughts

My fantasy life is almost as old as me. Even whilst I was working it 24/7 so that I didn't get into any trouble at home or at school, in my mind the Masters and Mistresses were very strict and quite sadistic and I took the brunt of their committed minds to exact obedience from me, as well as all the other girls.

There are parts of 'Jane Eyre' at the beginning that I would happily fast forward. It is painful (not in a good way) to watch the way they treat her friend and her ultimate death from their lack of care. But, I don't feel the same way about their behaviour when it comes to placing Jane on the stool in the middle of an empty room for most of the day. Yes, I felt sorry for her, of course, but it enacted something in me and I still recall that scene in my fantasies more often than I should probably admit.

My fantasy life is for the purposes of complete relaxation and fulfiment. My thoughts go (just did a few minutes ago actually)  to scenarios that are very cruel in some people's eyes and incredibly politically incorrect. In my dreams 'feminism' is an unknown word or concept and girls are for use; for service. Education is about training them for the life they were born to lead and most importantly, they need to understand and come to terms with the fact that their bodies are for the pleasure of men.

In my educational establishment it is not uncommon for girls to be lectured on the purpose of their bodies; on the purpose for each part of their body. Girls' buttocks, they are told, are round and soft  because they were made for the purposes of correction. A girl could be stroked or paddled and within a few days her buttocks were good as new, back to alabaster white; a new and clean canvass on which to paint again.

A girl, we are told, should receive regular corporal discipline, not just for the purposes of punishment wherein they attend the Master's study for a plentiful dose of the cane, but for the purposes of reminding her that she is designed to serve. A weekly correction on a Sunday evening, immediately after Chapel is the perfect way for a girl to begin the school week; the perfect reminder that it is her duty to carefully listen to all instructions, to speak only when spoken to or when permission is granted and to do her best in all her studies and exams at all times.

It is no mere co-incidence that after we are all soundly strapped each Sunday evening we are sent to sit our bare and very red bottoms on cold, hard seats to write lines. What better way to keep the sting of the strap present in our minds as we write 200 times,

"Young ladies must be obedient, honest and respectful at all times."

The educational establishment of my fantasies is designed to produce young women best suited to become the wives of old-fashioned and up standing men who keep a woman in her place; at their heel and ever ready to serve him in any way they should desire.

It is not an easy training. I would be kidding you if I said that. However, perhaps it will please you to know that the young woman...well, most of the them... come to appreciate their training. It has been said that the students of the boarding house dormitories are never more settled and content than on a Sunday evening tucked into their beds.

Far from finding the school a wretched place they pray one day to leave, they come to have a fondness for and an acceptance of their life there. Diligence is richly rewarded and the young women look forward immensely to the small doses of praise they are given. This is not an everyday event. It is important not to let praise go to a girl's head. But, if their Masters and Mistresses are pleased, this is pleasure enjoy for them. It is a small life, but a richly rewarding one. One by one, this lesson is imparted.

Doll heaven

Entering into the dolli headspace has been an extremely liberating thing for me in many ways and brought me much happiness and contentment. I understand that that is a very confronting statement for many people to read. I hope that you can be happy for me and not judge me too harshly in the same way that I don’t judge anyone else harshly for their choices. I do appreciate it is not for everyone (or hardly anyone). As well as being liberating it is very challenging and even for me at times, confusing and even baffling. I think my last post was an attempt to express some confusion – to try to put into words some thoughts that were troubling me a little. On reflection, I don’t think I did a good job of trying to express those thoughts.

When something doesn’t sit right for me in my life I deal with this in one of two ways. Either I give my poor addled head a complete rest and go do something that absorbs my mind and body in other ways or else I immerse myself in my troubled thoughts and don’t let go of them until I have a solution. You, my poor readers have suffered so as I go about demanding a solution and I want to thank you for your perseverance. I know (well I’ve been told anyway) that I can be a tad intense.

The benefits of the dolli headspace for me are immense. I can feel a wonderful sense of satisfaction with life and with my place in it. I can have a tremendously strong bond with my husband and we can both flourish with all the play that abounds in our life. I can benefit from the structure and expectations and even the communication style can be very rewarding. On my best days, I am quite simply, the doll. I am not just the dolli in the bedroom or when my husband approaches me in the kitchen in a certain way but I am also the dolli in my interactions in the outside world. She talks in a certain way. She interacts in a certain way. She abounds joy and transfers joy in a certain way. I can feel her taking over bringing me peace and contentment and I give thanks for the day, eighteen months ago now when she rose up and refused to be put back down.

Of course, the dolli operates in a confined space in many ways. She is contained and when that containment becomes too easy, she is challenged yet again. Dollies need challenges; to be pushed and pulled. Nothing is surer.

At the same time, I am old enough and wise enough to understand that the most important aspect of my life is my relationships. All sorts of other things have importance but nothing means more to me than connecting with other people. Finding soul mates, having one on one conversations with other people whereby they feel safe to reveal themselves to me and I feel safe to reveal myself to them is what matters to me.

I remind myself regularly that there are many types of friendship. I have a friend and we’ve been friends since we began nursery school at the age of four. We’ve never had an argument but at the same time I’ve never felt that I could talk to her about the real me. I sometimes wonder if she can talk to me about the real her. The truth is, I believe, that what I see, I get. I am seeing the real her whereas it is I that am the secretive one. It will never come to pass that I tell her about all that I tell you, because that sort of exposure would put me at great risk. It would be too titillating. The temptation to tell mutual friends would be too high. And, I say this holding onto a secret of hers through the years. I can do that perfectly well but many people cannot.

I crave intimacy. I don’t mean sexual intimacy although I do crave that big time with my husband. I crave intimacy with a special few people. I hope that my special relationships evolve such that intimacy, and then even more intimacy abounds. I look to meet soul to soul. I put great stock in this; work towards this; hope. You cannot make anyone open up but you can provide the environment that enables them to open up to you, if they wish; if they feel safe.

There are moments when I worry that as the doll I won’t have the opportunity to experience this sort of intimacy. Dollies have so many rules and protocols; so many limits. They are so contained. Yet, in my more positive moments I can see quite clearly that it is entirely possible to achieve intimacy; to meet with someone else on a soul to soul basis; for the trust to operate on a two way basis. This outcome is what I call ‘doll heaven’.

Cindi's cage

There many ideas dat appeal 2 cindi dat maybe do not appeal 2 all da gurls out there and one of doz ideas; 2 have a cage all 2 herself, just liki da wun in dis pikki. (It hanging from da wall towards da back of da pikki.)

Some gurls, cindi has heard, dey sent to the corner, 2 thinki bout der behavyor. Dat idea nut really dat appealing 2 cindi. Luckily 4 her, dat idea not appealing 2 her owner either.

But 4 sum time now, cindi has reeeeli, reeeeeeli wanted a cage. You c, 1 day she read da blog of a slave hoo spends lots of tym in her "cage" and since den, cindi tinki bout dis often.

She happened 2 spy wun day, out n about in da werld, a wicker hanging chair, suspended from da ceiling, rather enclosed in design and she tinki 2 herself, "Wow! Mebbe one day cindi could have a cage just liki dis 1."

Now, y wood cindi want a 'cage'? Well, da thought of her actually attached 2 a little space beri enticing 2 her. Let's say, she bit dramatic. Well, her owner could taki her to that little space, her own cage, liki a dolli box, and there she could settle herself down.

Or, maybe he could see that cindi weary and he might say, "Cindi, time 4 a nap for da doll. Off to da cage!". Oh dat thought is soooooo appealing 2 cindi.

So, imagine when cindi saw dis pikki!!!! Her heart fluttered and she thought, "Dats where cindi wants 2 stay - in a room jus liki dis, wif a cage all 2 herself".

Such a loveli thought 4 cindi! E n e wun else liki dis thought 2?

What I learned

The saying goes that 'time flies when you are having fun' and I have had a great deal of fun with this blog. I have absolutely loved it and I continue to love it, every day. This post is a bit of a milepost for me. It is my 200th post and I haven't even come close to running out of things to say here. There is something about the number '200' that has me wanting to say something especially significant today. I've written a good many words here on the blog and perhaps today is a good day to reflect on what I have learned.

I've learned a great deal about me. I've learned that I have a deeply submissive nature and that I yearn for control. I've learned that in my most difficult moments, I don't want sympathy or being left to my own devices. I don't need space, or time, or distraction. I need my man. I need my man to come and physically control me. I need him to spank me, and very hard at that, and I need him to make use of my body any way that suits him. The moment I begin to feel that he is in control of me, I begin to feel my spirits lift and my little world gets put back on its axis. I need him more than I can possibly say, and I always have.

I've learned how to function best in my life. In order to deal with my husband's business ventures,the daily ups and downs, the ongoing phone calls, the high risk and the potential wins and losses, I need to withdraw from it. Whilst one ear is listening and supporting, the other ear is drowning out the message. I have found great comfort in a bit of a fantasy world where things always stay the same. I no longer worry about my inability to be comfortable in chaos and instead focus on all the other lovely things about life.

My husband understands me better now and he does his best to allow me that sense of stability and calm. He still talks to me about it all and I still listen but he gets a sense now of when I am overloaded with the detail. My job is to support him without letting that world infiltrate my little world. In my little world, the focus is on things more serene, more aesthetic and more fulfilling to the soul. Our union and our family operate at optimum level when this girl is very happy, light and breezy.

It is my inner life that guides and sustains me. I'm a girl whose spirit wants to be free to fly. I want to enjoy my life and react with and respond to that which is spiritual. I want and need to feel an inner peace and to be at one with the world. I do this by giving of myself. I give my love and my joyous and caring spirit to my husband, my children, my family and friends, and to you.

Wrongs are done in the world every day. People hurt and travesties of justice are done. This is the reality. I cannot sweep that away. I have no magic broom. But, what you will find here is something above and beyond the daily toil of life; burdens and responsibilities. What you will find here is the power of love, of positive spirit, of embracing your true selves and finding the magic in your day and in your life.

I live in a cage of my own choosing, and I love that cage so very, very much. In that cage, I am free to let my spirits soar. I don't ever want to leave. This is what I learned.

Complexity

Having a blog is a tremendous opportunity. First and foremost for me was the opportunity to express my thoughts and also to think through my thoughts. A lovely by-product of that endeavour was to meet new people and to have them leave comments about what they read. I have never minded a challenging comment. For me, it is all ‘part and parcel’ of sifting through thoughts that rummage about in my head and getting them to a point where there is clarity.

If I said that I didn’t give some consideration to whom would be reading, I would be lying. Whilst a blog such as this is anonymous, my husband reads here and so too do a few special friends who know my real identity. I am not ashamed of my little blog, and if people discovered my true identity it wouldn’t be the end of the world. But, it would, no doubt, mean that my writing would be tempered by that fact.

Even now, I write carefully. I always write the truth but I admit that I do so with the knowledge that the blog has the potential to hurt the very special people in my life who read here. I was taught a long time ago that what goes down on paper is potentially harmful and I try not to allow my emotions of the day to colour my writings. I try very hard to be rational and reasonable, and not too emotive in my writings.

A few people whose advice I listen to with care have reminded me along the way that nothing is more interesting than an honest tale and that for writing to be good, an author must give of herself. I think I have given the reader here a fair amount of myself. I’ve held things back, I admit, but I’m learning, bit by bit, to write from the deepest place of me. I’m a complex person. I know that.

The truth is that I wish with all my heart that I had a situation in my life where I could feel a consistent level of control from my husband. Janus asked me, right back when we first started emailing, whether I wanted a more “intense” submission. I said I did, not knowing what that really meant. I know now that I don’t want a more harsh submission but I do want a more consistent experience. Whilst my husband is more than capable of being the dominant of my dreams, his business life interferes with this happy outcome. I have needed to feel his control in a more forceful way (read: a caning) for weeks now.

He loves me and understands me but is so devoted to his financial cause (and rightly so) that right now one day leads to the next without this submissive girl feeling the control that would elevate her to a higher realm of living. Success in the venture would mean a more stable financial situation and that would be dreamy. What would be particularly significant to this girl is that her man may then have the time to consider her needs a little more consistently. The man can make me so darn happy, for free.

Count your blessings

One of the nicest things you can do for yourselves as a married couple, I believe, is to go out together, to a formal function. Formal functions require formal attire and as soon as one starts to prepare for such an evening, the pleasure begins. I had fun late afternoon choosing my outfit, showering,doing my hair, my nails and my makeup, putting on my perfume.

Of course, it doesn't take him long when he returns from the city to have a shower and put on a tuxedo, but I think he understands by now that girls need that lead in time to make themselves look their beautiful best. And, I did. I did feel good.

When I came out of my room, good to go, the older children were very impressed. Both photography enthusiasts, they snapped a variety of shots of me alone, and with my husband, their Dad, and it really was good fun. It felt a bit like a school formal, because that is what we had done for them; snap away in order to remember that special moment.

It was not lost on my husband that I was wearing my special necklace as well as my special bracelet, but this time I was wearing the beautiful silver, slightly irregular 'O' with my multiple stranded fine red leather necklace, which matched the colour of my nail polish. It was a stroke of genius at the time he bought it that he asked the woman to order in the red leather necklace as well as the black one that came with the pendant. I love the contrast with the black clothes, I must say.

So, it turned out to be one of those events where there is a silent auction. I rather like those sorts of auctions and I wandered about looking for something on which to make a bid. Were the smiles I got from various men simply ones of politeness and admiration, or did they read more into the choices of what I had chosen to wear around my neck and wrist? I will never know. Nor will they ever know that the 'night and dinner in the city' prize, won by me, would see us enjoying a very kinky and smutty weekend some time soon.

We danced the night away, really. We had the best time doing that. But, as well, we met some very interesting couples on our table, for our invitation had come from an old friend, and these other people were strangers to us. One lovely man engaged me in conversation and to our delight we had so much in common. He'd lived overseas where we had, we'd been born in the same town, he's attended the same university and at the same time, and even was in the college next to me. It had simply taken a few more decades for us to meet. I wasn't sure about his wife at first. He seemed a bit disengaged from her. But, when they went onto the dance floor, I could see that decades of marriage, children and an international life, had done nothing to diminish their connection at all; like us. When he left, a big bear of an Indian man, he hugged both my husband and I tight. We were of the same ilk.

Marriage has its tough spots; like life. Yet, it is who I am; a married woman with children; a beautiful, happy and loving family. It is what I always wanted. My need and desire for opportunities to express and explore my kink is a side of me that few people will ever see, but it remains a very important part of me and I think it always will. I am loved for who I am. I don't think you can ask for more than that.