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.

Silence

The top of a relationship needs to think about what corrective/disciplinary measures he might take with his girl (or boy). It's inevitable that situations will crop up and he's going to want to have thought out what he plans to do about that. It seems clear that there are a wide range of measures available to him. He might want to just talk to her in a clear, concise way that whatever she did, he doesn't want her to do it again. Perhaps this measure is adequate. Some tops raise their voice (Oh come on, you know you do!) and that's not at all pleasant. I know it often stops me in my tracks because I don't want to spin that situation any further out than it already is. I don't like him being cross with me at all.

There are so many measures a top could take that it’s hard to know where to go from here. Of course, he might want to provide some corporal discipline; not the type she likes, but the type she doesn't like. If he isn't at all happy and she knows that, there's an atmosphere that goes with that that is entirely corrective. I get spanked (or whatever) as a correction but not when he's angry, thank goodness.

Growling at her; giving her a good telling off; a lecture; giving her a last warning before you turn her over your knee is usually more than enough, in my opinion. Your angry face or your angry words will have her whistling another tune quick smart. And, that's the whole idea, right?

He might ask her to write lines. I've been asked to do that but it was soon determined that I didn't find that a punishment. I enjoy writing lines. It's the sort of humiliating punishment that goes straight to my fantasies. Interestingly, once a top knows that you enjoy a punishment, he stops issuing it. I can't imagine why this is so...

There's corner time and I do hate this but fortunately it's not used, except on some very random occasions. It was used when I didn't have control of my responses and wouldn't be silent when I was told to be silent.

A top could use the strategy of taking a girl’s words away for a time. This is also fantasy material but I think it is a very useful measure to use when a girl just needs to settle herself down for a time. When used, say, for a day it goes beyond corrective and can lead to a deep peace, if all goes well.

Some tops prefer to put a girl under a cold shower for a minute or two, to restrain them in some way...The list goes on. I'm aware that some girls are put into chastity belts, corsets, made to wear an anal plug that is too small, rather big; perhaps coated in shampoo rather than lube. All of these measures can be corrective and at the same time, pleasurable. I don't deny that it can be tough to correct a girl when her perversions/fantasies can mean that she attains some pleasure in these directives.

I return to the thought that being in trouble is really the issue. The bottom doesn't want to be in trouble; to be in the bad books and that's really the correction; that he is not happy with you. It's a very vulnerable feeling; that the world isn't spinning around in a correct fashion.

I'm familiar with the technique of being dismissed when my behaviour has been thought to be wanting. "Leave the room," I will be told. "I don't wish your presence right now." "cindi can go away and think about that!". Or, simply silence.  I've never enjoyed that. I find it completely horrible. Most of the time, I'm given an opportunity fairly quickly to redeem myself. It might relate to my owner wanting an apology and when I am ready to apologize, he's ready to receive it and all is well.

My training with a mentor has found itself in this neck of the woods and whilst the words seem tame "talk wif da bimbo l8r", they are not. I know what they mean. I know that I didn't impress and that time is being 'granted' to think about that and decide if I want to pursue that line of action, or do things according to the D/s statutes. Since I hate the kind of silence that comes as a form of correction, I do what I need to do to return to good grace.

When dismissal lasts for a few hours or even a few days, I don't think any harm is done. It's a very effective way of telling a girl that she has crossed the line and I accept that sort of consequence. I don't need long to determine that I don't care at all for this outcome and I am happy to sort matters out to the satisfaction of the top. I'm very much a girl that wants to stay in the good books.

Having said that, I must say that ‘dismissal’ used over a period of years has led me to a place where I find uncertainty as to my status (good or bad books?) and silence without an understanding as to why there is silence, extremely upsetting. So upset did I become the last time I felt placed in this quandary that I determined an ending of the relationship was better than enduring this emotional pain.

That's a highly emotional reaction, I know, and not the best one at that. But, I distinctly recall at the time I had that feeling that I simply could endure it not a minute longer.  Perhaps, I had found my 'limit'; that measure or behaviour that I refused to and could not endure. I may have been wrong (was wrong) as to intention. I may have been (was wrong) to not have adequate trust. Yet, at the time, a long silence without full understanding as to whether this was corrective or simply entirely unavoidable was too much to bear.

This is the point I want to make loud and clear to any tops out there reading. If you determine that you must remove yourself from your submissive for some reason, it needs to be absolutely clear why your removal is occurring. Perhaps the silence has nothing to do with her. So, tell her. She needs to know if this is a correction, or not. What did she do wrong and what do you want her to think about while silence reigns? How long is this likely to take, do you think? If you want her to learn a lesson, go for it. But, be aware that she will suffer and how much emotional suffering do you want her to endure? There is a limit as to what the human heart can take.

All bottoms need to feel a connection to their tops. Even if the relationship is not romantic, even if it is a teacher/student relationship, for example, we submissive types must feel that we have pleased. When we know we haven't pleased, all we want to do is to make up for that. Silence is okay for a short burst of 'pull yourself together!' therapy but not okay for long bursts. She'll be tormented. When you decide to end her agony, you can't be sure you haven't broken her spirit; her heart.

I’m not blind to the fact that a connection can be so strong it can bear almost anything. It can be ripped apart and regrow. It can endure even after death. The human heart is very strong. Trust is a prerequisite for this sort of life as is forgiveness. Where there is a will, there is a way, but why take the risk?

Expressing upset

In a marriage or committed relationship, there are going to be times when one person is feeling down and the other person picks them up. The tables will be reversed constantly and there is an understanding that one person will be strong when the other is feeling weak. In a power exchange relationship the situation is no different. Just because one is the leader of the arrangement doesn't mean that he or she is going to always feel strong; confident; able; well.

Yet, those times when the dominant is not feeling himself are hard on the submissive. I don't think there is any doubt about that. We do tend to rely on the dominant for a source of energy. We come to depend on that in the same way that the dominant anticipates that the submissive will always be her sweet submissive self. Life isn't quite that perfect. I have said many times that I am happiest when we are both operating 'in the zone'. I love to feel the dominance and he loves to feel my submission to him. This is the optimum arrangement; the perfect day.

However, I am well aware that it is very important for all people to take responsibility for their own emotions as well as to set limits for their emotional well being. Of course, some power dynamic relationships have aspects of  Narcissist/ co-dependent about them. One partner may need the others approval and attention to feel good about him or herself whilst the other partner is inclined to enjoy admiration and being in complete control.

All is well in a relationship where these two components of personality are in play until something gives. Perhaps, the partner with control withdraws attention, for whatever reason. For the co-dependent, this state of play will lead to a sense of withdrawal: depression, anxiety and mental pain. Time lapses and the narcissistic partner gives a 'shot'  of attention and the co-dependent partner feels better again, only to feel worse the next time it happens. A vicious cycle is suddenly in place that leads to emotional torment.

In a situation like this, I am not at all sure that it is a good idea to think of one person as the bad guy and one person as the victim. I think what is important is that the vicious cycle is broken. This is going to take the hard work of both people involved. There is no easy fix here. Realistically, I think you have to start with yourself. I think you have to open your eyes to your own involvement in this unhealthy  dynamic.

For many people with a submissive nature it goes against the grain to set limits as to what they will accept of their partner, but healthy people in healthy relationships do have limits. I don't mean that they won't do something that is, in their estimation, unacceptable such as...I don't know...play with animals.... I mean that they won't tolerate this or that manipulative behavior from their partner.. They won't allow their partner to manipulate them full stop.

People with submissive natures are inclined to give in; to be soft; to want to please; to humor the other person and to agree, even if they don't really agree at all.

In a power exchange relationship it is very important to know within yourself what is acceptable to you and what is unacceptable and to voice those issues when they occur. The other person may not like that but it is important for both members of the relationship not to allow an unhealthy relationship to evolve. It is entirely appropriate and healthy for the bottom of the relationship to express her concerns, her disagreement and the fact that something that the top is doing is unacceptable to her. It is important to do this in optimal ways, of course. That's key. But, the bottom line is that it must be done.

It is about checks and balances and sometimes the bottom is going to need the top to settle down and contemplate his own behavior for a time, rather than hers. Respect is a mutual thing in a power exchange relationship and if she is deeply upset and unsettled, she is probably upset for good reason. Mutual respect and open communication should allow a relationship to grow.

No-one likes to make mistakes. No-one wants to feel shame or guilt. We all want to be admired and loved. We can all be inclined to be self-centered or to lack empathy for the other person. It makes sense therefore that the more we check in with one another about conduct unbecoming, the better off we all will be.

The power exchange relationship is the perfect place to put this into action. I see the power exchange dynamic as a fluid thing; two people working well together to make the perfect whole. Perfection won't happen unless the submissive sees it as her duty to take some responsibility to see that the relationship remains in a good state of health. She is responsible for her own mental health and also for speaking up when she believes it important to do so. The wise top will (eventually) understand that her intentions are entirely honorable and appropriate.

A Disciplined Girl

We are at the holiday house and it is our first morning here. We usually end up arriving very late at night and when we finally awoke after a long and deep sleep my owner asked me what I should do.

“Hug,” I responded.

“That’s second,” he replied.

“Kiss,” I guessed again (knowing, of course, that was the wrong answer too).

“That’s third. What should you do first, cindi?”

“Suck owner’s cocki,” I told him. (It doesn’t pay to stretch this game out too far.)

“Then why isn’t cindi doing that?”

cindi obliged.

“What is up on the shelf in the dressing room, cindi?”

I took my mouth away from his upright cock long enough to say,

“Da thin, nasty cane.”

And, that’s when my thoughts returned to a time I don’t think I have written about in any detail in this journal.

I was rather green to this notion of a disciplined life but already incredibly enraptured. I was spending far too much time reading about girls getting caned for this and that and I was in a whole other space in my head. I think it frightened owner a bit at the time. He wasn’t sure what to make of my intense desires, I think, and one day when I was telling him about some girl that had apparently had a caning every day for a week, he responded in a way that still gives me goose bumps when I think about it.

“Well, if it is good enough for her, then it is good enough for you. If you want to play in this space, then you need to show your commitment.”

“What do you mean?” I asked

“Why shouldn’t you have a dozen of the cane for a week? You think you can talk the talk but if you are genuine you need to walk the walk.”

This was a dare, a very scary dare and one I intended to take; not that he gave me any choice. He was as serious with me as he has ever been. I’d need to present each evening for correction and that was that.

I spent that week in a sort of suspended animation. I think we were both on such a euphoric high that we didn’t take into account that the children may well have heard some things. Certainly, I tried to contain my squeals but that week was in the days before I knew too much (if anything) about gags. I imagine I bit on my hand and fingers. I know I tried to use a huge amount of self-control to contain the pain.

We were here, at the holiday house the whole time. I don’t remember everything but I do remember that I counted that there would be 84 (I’d say it was more like 90 in fact because there was extras when I came out of position) strokes. Each day when I had received the 12 (or more) strokes, I’d deduct it from the total. That’s the way I got through it mentally, although I remember when the very last stroke came down it was such an anti-climax, because by then I had become rather used to the daily correction. I was certainly relieved and proud to have attained the goal of obedience but what about tomorrow? What would life be like tomorrow, without the cane?

The mornings were the easiest. I’d realize that I had a stretch of hours ahead of me before needing to bend over the end of the bed (or sometimes on all fours on the bed tied up, if he felt like being particularly sadistic). I’d have a lightness of being until mid-afternoon when the approaching hours would hang over me. It bears keeping in mind that once a light skinned bottom has been marked and bruised, the following strokes only add to the art work in ways that make sitting tender and the psyche a bit fraught.

Yet, I simply adored the marks and bruises criss-crossing by buttocks and when I swivelled my head to study them, I felt a joy and sense of pride and pleasure that can’t be properly described. I know at times owner worried about it. I don’t think he had any idea how the marks would endure and although he had no intention of not going ahead with the decree, I could see on his face some concern at the state of my backside. I tried to assure him my backside would be all right and he settled. In fact, I think he took some pleasure in the notion that as I sat in the old boat I was sitting on a very tender bottom that was given by his hand, so to speak. I found it delicious.

There is so much that I have forgotten because my head was mush that week. I cooked and shopped for food and did all the ordinary things I do on holiday here but in my head, I was living the life of a disciplined girl and all that really mattered to me was that I was finally living authentically. I was living out my dreams and fantasies.

I do recall that at some point he needed to return to the city and when he told me I had a sense of relief. I would have one night off being caned. In fact, the lack of the caning that evening played on my mind. If he’d been there, another 12 strokes would have been over already. When he returned, I told him about that feeling and he offered to give me 24 strokes that evening so that I could “catch up”.  I suggested we try 18 and when they were given, he simply told me he was carrying on to 24.

I remember crying but no tears came. My hands were tied. I was on my fours on the bed and although it hurt like hell it never occurred to me to break position, to ask for leniency or anything else. He was in complete control and I simply responded to his words. He told me to stay still in a firm, authoritative voice, and so I did.

Afterwards, he rubbed his hand over my stinging backside softly, cooed and calmed me and put me to bed. I was in a state of wonder. Why had I not known about this life before this? How could we have wasted all those years?

He’s caned me in the garage; in the Gardens in town; in the bedroom; in the bathroom; in the hall way of a house we were renovating with a piece of fresh cane from the garden. He has walloped me with paddles, a ping pong bat, a rolled up newspaper, a horse whip, a wooden spoon, a hair brush; a flat piece of wood, rope, a tawse and I have probably forgotten a few others along the way. If I’m cheeky on the street, he doesn’t hesitate to give my bottom a few smacks.

I adore the sensations, of course. I love to feel that I have no control. I love the challenge. I love to feel in my place. I want to know that I am owned. I simply adore what it does to my state of mind. Almost instantly, my mind is relieved of thoughts. I bunker down into a state of acceptance. Perfect peace is granted to me.

On my luckiest days, I am plugged and tied tight; put to bed with a kiss and told to go straight to sleep. I sleep the sleep of the angels and when I awake, I consider myself the luckiest girl in the world. On these days, I have everything I could ever want.

Owners

I am familiar with the statement, "It's hard for owners." I have heard it a number of times over the past few years and I would be the first to agree. I certainly wouldn't want to be an owner. And, the more bimbo-like the girl becomes, the harder it is for the owner because her needs only grow. They never reduce.

Once a girl knows what it feels like to be objectified her taste for this sort of play expands and multiplies. If there should be a shortage of such play, she walks around just a bit dissatisfied with life. When you've been to that place of peace and bliss, your thoughts are firmly entrenched in getting back there.

So, what does it take? Well, it's a state of mind really but that state of mind is firmly grounded in a physical experience and response. Contain the girl, bind her in some way and her state of mind will soon sink down into a very settled and sexual space.

Training is a prerequisite. I imagine each owner has his own methods but anal training worked for me. Rope is good. Binding the girl so that her wrists are tied at night can take her deep into her bimbo-contained-blissful state self. One feels delightfully contained in a corset, of course, and mouth gags can sink you deep down into that 'you're not in control here' space very nicely. I don't have a chastity belt but just the thought of wearing one can take me several layers down into my bimbo loving place.

I like to be told that I can't talk. I like to be told to bend over a chair and get a good walloping; made to say thank you and to ask if I may rise. Paddling, whippings, canings: all those types of activities help a girl to feel very owned and to help her understand her place. Holes filled. Holes used. That's all ideal for a girl to let go of her muddled headed thinking and just retreat deep down.

To some people this all sounds very demeaning which is a bit of a joke because to objectify a girl like me is to give her the most priceless gift in the entire world: a sense of letting go; peace; glorious bliss and a totally empty mind.

We must appreciate and be good to our owners. Without them we may be more, but how can we become less?

Expressing feelings

I have just had a lovely little experience. We have been required to share our next writing assignment on the Discussion Board. That's fine if you choose to do a film review or a travel piece or whatever. If you choose to do something far more intimate that is rather daunting.

Discussion Boards are much like web journals because although you don't know me, and I don't know other bloggers, we do get the feeling that we know one another, in a way. That's part of the lovely experience of writing in a large forum like this.

There is a young man in our writing group who is clearly a vulnerable soul and although he hasn't responded to my work, I have been moved by his and responded to him. I wondered if it was the mother in me. I felt quite instinctively that he needed nurturing.

Anyway, he just put up a post about the fact that he is bi-sexual; that he wants to write about that; that he wants whatever he writes to move people. Since he's interested in blogging and has just recently got into that, I suggested he write this piece in the first person - to explain what it means to him to be a bi-sexual person - whether that is a choice, a preference or simply what it is. I offered to be a 'critical friend' and read for him, so we'll see how that goes.

He's a gentle soul. He wrote previously of his hurt the first time he was rejected by a friend and how that hurt still remains. He was making his first attempts to see how his behavior could have influenced the outcome of that situation, although he is still too young, I think, to realize that the whole dilemma had to do with his low self-esteem and probable confusion as to who he was.

In the heat of the moment, moments when I might get my knickers in a knot (who else is going to keep these divine old expressions alive if not me?) I can't see clearly my involvement in conflict. It happens very rarely, mind you. Occasionally, however, I respond badly to a situation not so much (or at all) because of what the other person said, but because of how those words made me feel. Perhaps, I felt rejected, or unloved, or uncared for; even unworthy. It's akin to stepping on an emotional land mine. Someone triggers a response from me when they land on my greatest vulnerabilities. And, who is capable of triggering a response? Those people closest to me, of course.

I am not especially eager to express my vulnerabilities and that can make a D/s relationship a challenge. I am reluctant to say, "I need you", "You just made me feel worried that you won't always be here for me." Or, "I'm worried that you will be angry so I'm not going to tell you what I really think." Even, "I miss you" or "I feel lonely" can be hard to say.

Something deep within my soul and my psyche says to protect against anyone knowing that I am a highly vulnerable person. So, what does one do instead? One uses bluster. One blames the other person for insensitivity. One goes and sits on a shelf and feels dejected; waits to be rescued.

I do so admire those people that keep it simple. Very few of us can do that. They go straight to the heart of the matter and make statements such as, "I feel hurt" "I feel sad" I feel angry" I tend not to do that. In fact, I don't think I do that at all. I did say recently, "I feel stupid" but that was after I didn't say "I feel confused" and created my own interpretation of what had been said to me.

It really doesn't matter why this happened. I could speak to the fact that I had to be mature and independent at too early an age and I developed poor habits of relying completely on myself and keeping my feelings to myself. So much of what I read convinces me more and more that as a society we are getting our priorities in a mess. Young children need to know that as children they are the top priority in caregivers minds. It is their time to be children; to be cared for, loved; allowed innocence; to express their feelings.

But, I don't want to spend time justifying why I go about things the way I do at times. The simple fact is that I need to stop and ask myself, 'What I am feeling?". This has been an area of focus in meditation group classes but I rarely manage to put it into daily practice. This is going to change.

What am I feeling? Do I feel anxious, guilty, proud, bored, upset; touched, moved, good? Do these feelings need to be a secret? It is much better if they are not. If I can express how I feel then the other person can do something about it; at the very least respond to it. Throw a grenade and they'll throw one right back...and double the size! Trust me. I know.

I feel better now

Open for business

I had a security scare. There was the potential for my real identity to be revealed. If anyone remembers those times I bravely (and stupidly) said that it would not matter to me if my identity was revealed, I was wrong. The thought of people talking about me behind my back, aware of just about every thought that has passed through my head, put me into a state of shock and had me reacting with a defensiveness that made closing the blog to readers immediately essential.

I think the threat has passed. Nothing has happened to suggest that there is any real danger and so I want to open the blog to readers again, to peruse at their leisure.

I have had some really nasty, personal and quite vicious comments. According to anonymous sources, I have multiple personality disorder and as a 'doll' I can be thrown in the rubbish at my owner's whim, and so it goes...

I can't say that they didn't affect me. I made some regrettable decisions in reaction to these happenings. But, I'm over that now. I know who I am and I know what's right.

By sheer co-incidence I just realized that I opened this blog on March 2, 2009, exactly three years ago today! So, let's call this 'the second coming of Vesta' and see what comes of that.

I hope everyone is well.