blunami

It is not so often anymore that i pause to relish the act of serving. i am a 24/7 boislave. i resisted the use of the word slave for years for many reasons:

1. As i began exploring service/submission i refused to be what "i" thought a "slave" was, so utterly subserviant, so voiceless, so "weak". Little did i know or understand.

2. i did not find the need to be anything other than a boi. It is my core.

3. She had a slave and did not need another. Besides a handful of a boi was quite enought.

4. slave still tasted bad in my mouth. History and my white, small town education made the word feel ugly, slimy, and degrading.

5. At the time i was the owner of my will. It was free. It was MINE. And i wanted to keep it that way.

In the five yrs since She placed a permanant collar on my neck and called me Hers i have learned a few things.

You CAN harness the wind. It's done all the time with windmills. Her windmill is a nice peice of chain with a black padlock on it. It fits well, hasn't rusted yet, and harnessess an energy that many have tried but NONE could harness before Her.

The word slave can mean and does mean many MANY different things. It is not up to me to decide what or how anyone defines the word for themselves. My working definition is "the human property of Her to be used when, how, where, and why She wishes." Do i still have a "will"? Yes. Do i desire to release it? Yes. To Her? After it has been gone over by my HGA (Holy Guardian Angel). It makes sense that my spiritual life should be just a breath above my surrender to Her. For it is in the surrender to what is Higher that i can indeed surrender to Her my all.

And so today i am called by Her a boislave. i live and have lived for a while now, the life of a slave as She defines it. i am Hers. i am owned and operated by Her. i live for Her pleasures and desires. i make myself a better human not only so that i am a better human but so that i am a better human for and with Her.

The day after Folsom we will celebrate our official 5 yr collaring anniversary. It is a precious day for U/us. W/we had never intended things to be as they are, which is why it is so beautiful. Five years ago W/we agree'd i would be Her VERY part time submissive, that i would have a freedom to live my sexual life as i was and as i wanted and that it would NOT be part of what i had with Her. That changed and evolved to the place where i now sit, in a silent office in Her house, wearing Her collar as well as Her ring on "the finger". i am not allowed nor do i desire to service, serve, pleasure, or in any way submit to anyone but Her. i do periodically have the honor of topping another but that is becoming very rare as well. i think i'd miss that more if i had the experience of it as a leather dyke but i have not. Before Her i was a sex top, hard into the scene of dirty but still vanilla sex at clubs. Dirty, hot, racy sex but NOT leather sex. And i was NOT about to spread anything other than my lips in a smile for anyone.

Today i study ardently. i live ardently. i work ardently. i serve with honor, grace, dignity, and respect.

The "boi" sometimes still gets a bit wild. The wind not ALWAYS tamed. She's working on that, as am i.

i am happy.

To give up.
To give in.
To let go.

Hands in the air waving, unclenched fists, a turning point. Turning it over.
The grand IT.

I have known the surrender that comes from having your soul beaten into a state of utter defeat by your own hand. Being driven into the ground so deep you can't see the sky. I know that place. It is a place of powerlessness so profound, so bleak and dark it's impossible to describe. They say the only way out is up but when your that deep in your own mire theres not much power to dig yourself out. And THAT is the saving grace. In that deep, dark, soul-crushing stench the only thing to do is scream "I GIVE UP". And the Great I AM lifts you ever so slowly from the mess you have created and gives you just enough stregnth to help you take a step. And then another. And then another.

I came here, to leather, to submission, to experience surrender in a different form.

This new surrender is not so ugly. At least, not for me. This surrender is sweet. It smells of sweat and sex and shoe polish. It wasn't taken from me, forced from me, or ripped from my bloodied lips.

This surrender is the surrender of my soul to my Self. To the deepest part of my being. It is the surrender to a truth so profound and real there is nothing elso to say once I have said "yes".

To bath the dogs, mop the floors, plant flowers, shave legs, groom body, groom soul, clean carpets, do laundry, wash car, drive hundreds of miles for meetings and programs, clean leathers, spread legs, bare back, count the lashes, take the pain, accept the pleasure, give the pleasure, hold out the tears as a gift, speak the truth even when it's not easy, speak the truth when it's to easy, go to the park, walk the dogs, answer the phone, write the emails, go to work, study homework, go to school, trust Her judgement before my own, speak, sit in silence, serve dinner, give a massage, accept a massage, rely heavily upon Her for guidance and love and mercy and respect, to give respect, to receive respect, to admit wrongs, to forgive wrongs, to make mistakes, to live with integrity. I can do them all on my own. I can do them without a collar. I can do them without a ring. I can do them because I AM these things. They are the action I take to express my gratitude at being given this gift of life.
But, to do these things naked in full day light and no matter what, to do them with grace and dignity and to do them when I do not WANT to do them, that is part of surrender for me.

I live these things. It is my life.

Now I am learning a deeper form of surrender. It is always that way. One level down, many many more to go.

Now I am learning that it's easy to take the actions listed (or not listed) above. It's second hand and second nature. To say "yes Ma'am, it is my pleasure" automatic.

Now, it isn't about the action but the inaction. The stillness. The moments of silence when She is sleeping peaceful and the dogs are dreaming and the night is still that I take a deeper look at where I am and where I want to go.

Deeper.

It isn't about sex alone. Yes it is. Everything is about sex. Getting it, not getting it, getting it wrong, getting it OH-SO-RIGHT, getting off, getting on, getting in, getting getting getting laid, whipped, slapped, kicked, punched, taken.

I have always been sex-top, whip bottom, let me take you on a ride then I'll do the dishes. I have always been service. I am service. That does not mean that I am not a thinking human with a will. Oh, I have a WILL. I WANT.
I do not want to surrender my Will.

Deeper.

I will surrender my Will. It'll happen because I want it to happen. I want to see what if feels like to be naked to the core, maybe for one night, maybe for one month, maybe only for a moment.

Some would say it has happened. That it happened when She placed Her collar on my neck and kept the key. I suppose that is the truth on one hand. On the other She cannot keep this metal on my neck without my honest desire to wear it. But what does it MEAN? Dishes. Dogs. Shoveling dirt. Doing housework, yardwork, SM work, inner work. It means that I am a possesion. A precious possesion owned and adored and loved and beaten and longed-for and infuriating and ingenious.

I don't ask my possions what they want me to do with them. They have thier place and space and time of use. I use them at will and set them aside for next time. I keep them clean and in good repair. I keep them safe and secure (if you will) and sometimes I use them harder than I should.

Deeper.

It isn't about being "used" and then "tossed away".
It is about being, for a moment or a lifetime, secure and sound enough within myself that I do not need to hold on to anything. I tend to clench for dear life sometimes. To stangle the life out of something because I am afraid to let go. What I have found is this: When She whispers "let go, give it to me" I DO let go and I DO give it to Her and I do feel free. That moment is the freest moment. When there is nothing but my ass in the air, my heart out there, my legs spread, my head spinning, my mind reeling and my back stinging that I am so utterly free I almost forget that I have skin.

And sometimes I don't have skin. Sometimes I shift into wolfspace. And I am not human and I am not animal and I am not dead and I am not hurt. I am power beyond what can be contained.

But inevitably I return to this place where I clench and hold on to fear because I know it, it's familiar and fits into my hands and it's ugly but it's mine. I'm not sure I want to own it any more.
If you ask what I am afraid of I can't answer you. If you nod your head because you are familiar with the word then you probably don't need to ask. I'll dive.

Deeper.

I want to surrender my fear.