Self pity post

I didn’t really want to post here for something so unrelated to my usual content. So I’m sorry it’s a quick self pity post
I just feel I really need to be ‘heard’. To be honest I’m trying anything to stop this incorrigible sobbing.
I feel so much shame and guilt for this chronic pain. Its the worst I’ve ever had it tonight. The pain and the drugs are fighting and I’m so tired and in a weird sort of muted agony. What an odd oxymoron but it’s the only way I can describe this nerve pain right now.
Most days my leg is affected as well as my back but this is something new. And all because I wanted to work my core. I must have gone too hard and now I’m so worried it will do permanent damage on my nerve. I love being fit and active despite my lulls and getting a bit chubby. I miss being more autonomous. And I fucking hate how desperate I am for comofort lately.
The other night,I was going to write about it,my Master came over and it was so nice to spoon him but I woke after an hour in agony. I had to get up and take some pills. It showed me just what a night without them was like. Tonight I can barely move without shooting pains and when I’m relaxing I’m uncomfortable. Its crazy how much being uncomfortable can psychologically drain you. I feel exhausted.
I just want to Fuck/make love/express how I want to.
To move how I want
To hug and snuggle in bed as I want
To fucking walk to the bus stop without pain. Without having to stop three times to get home on a 800m walk.
I see the specialist in Friday and I’m so excited and so scared. Spinal surgery would be amazing right now. It sounds so drastic but this pain has been going on too long and I can’t bare it. I’m dreading going to the big city for my class and having to walk. Around my favourite city. The one I would wander around with such assertive strides…and now I can’t bare to imagine how horrible just 100 metres would be like. I’m young and I need a cane.
I feel so ugly. So out of control of my own body. So broken. I wish I could be held right now. And a lot of me resents that. I hate that I can’t stop crying. Most of the time I’m so good at controlling that. Another reason why breaking down with my Master is so cathartic.
God. What a post.
I’m a painfully positive person. But this is fucking ending me.

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Dfw

David foster Wallace wrote in his seminal piece of fiction, Infitine Jest -everything I have ever let go of has claw marks on it

A beautiful and powerful line.

It’s a sentiment I wish I was brave enough to share. I’m much too cowardly to hold anything tightly and much too consumed with the desire to be marked.

small task.

My Master tasked me with writing out how I was feeling after reading a really erotic story, one that lead down a path he and I are eager to explore.

I feel manic, I feel very sexually charged, and I feel salacious (my left arm aches a little from masturbating so feverishly/roughly). I am reminded of that rather transformative winter evening when I first found two of my favourite kinks, pet play and nonconsent. I came eight times in a couple of hours reading the same story over and over. I felt very excited and desperate and I know I fingered myself into oblivion. I didn’t use any other aids, and I was so wet and delirious…anyway, the story I was reading tonight, that I shared with my Master, gives me a similar feeling. I had a temper as a child and I ALWAYS seemed to show myself physically. I was rough, I liked to wrestle, and I know I hurt my poor little sister a few times, this has also been similar in sex. But as a woman, and someone who can get so anxious and internal (therefore less passionate than I actually want to be) I certainly repressed these feelings. I can think of only a couple of instance when I was a bit more rough,  sort of fighting back with my Master a couple of times (we wrestled) I also think of being scratched and bitten and pushed and pushing back. While I am ultimately a submissive, and I want more than anything to be bested and won over and owned, I want to push back as hard as I can and STILL be beaten. Please don’t misunderstand this as being disobedient. I am speaking not as a slave and as a submissive WHOLLY here, but rather as a flawed individual who wants to trust and finds this expressed through physicality. This is why what my master said all those months ago had my nearly cumming on my friends couch. It is so DEEPLY rooted in my psyche.

That is why when I get so into a fantasy like that story or in moments of pristine clarity after my Master has beaten me hard and I truly feel broken, and bested that I feel like this – oddly I could say they do sit at opposite ends of a spectrum – after being beaten I am satiated, right now I am thirsty and desperate and all of me feels alight and frightened that I wont get what I need. Much like subfrenzy but more sexually charged. I feel my clit is still hard and I am sitting at my kitchen bench with a finger circling it teasingly.

I want to initiate which has always been a bit of a struggle for me, but I want to pull myself close to my Master and rub against him with slutty intentions, I want him to hurt me and I want to lose myself from this ridiculous inhibitions. Its fierce and overwhelming and when I was cumming I could taste adrenaline. I would have swapped it for cum.

a poem.

I’m listening to Hot Chip, and I have to say I really dig their sound. I like me some antirock chick sounds. I haven’t been sleeping all that well, and i’m trying to remove codeine from my evening routine. Have a poem.

If you are the man of all flowers

I am the woman with messy hair

Tangled with your now fallen

Brightly bloomed

Corolla..

I will make it so no man

Ever

Ever

Ever

Loves me to my womb.

I will not be open

He will not consider what it is to know me

Let alone to own my pulsing innards

I plant my soul there

I plant my anger at my mother

I plant my not good enough

I plant my most precious of pains

The one I cherish and love in secret

I refuse to be known

I will let you, though

Close enough to bruise me

Almost to penetrate

To feel me like I haven’t let others

Because you are beautiful

In your love of knowledge

And you make me want to hurt

And to grow flowers where I shouldn’t

And to say leave me

When I wish you wouldn’t

 

This is somewhat an ironic poem, while also being one of the most raw that I have ever written. It was off the cuff with only one edit and just a way to give a voice to the part of me that is very skeptical about the whole vulnerability/love/giving of self thing. Icertainly feel unable to break down to the very core, but with my Master I sure want to/get closer to there. ‘Almost’ in this poem is like a promise to Him.
Its also gendered. Being a pansexual person I say man here more to understand where I have been and who I have known.

I wrote it at work one morning, when I was mad at my fear of intimacy and how I abandoned my ex emotionally and got to thinking how much more inclined I was to let my Master in, and to let Him know me. I would say I have let Him see me to my womb….How He feels about it is yet to be established.

Master knows best

Yesterday,  when I was halfway through a great Grand Designs episode and perving on Kevin McCloud (Obnoxious twat that he is) my Master came over. I had his coffee ready for him, and I had made sure to tidy my small house and make my bed for his arrival.

I had been feeling pretty low, hormones and anxiety meeting on one day often give me 24-36 hours of a less collected Yuki. I almost cancelled our catch up plan, I didn’t want to take my low mood out on him, but he always makes me feel better and I thought I could calm down. I did, for the most part, and we had plans on playing with our new toy.

He instead decided to put me in my place. It had been a while since we had last engaged in impact play, for the most part due to circumtances, and i was craving it. I enjoy our comfortable friendly banter very much, my master has a keen mind and he makes me feel like i can stretch mine, but I had felt like i was neglecting my duties a bit…faltering as a good slave, and it felt amazing to be flogged and to so obviously show my devotion. I struggled, possibly being so sensitive physically and emotionally had me curling up and feeling vulnerable very fast. Everything came to the surface so suddenly. I was crying lightly one moment holding onto his leg, and then sobbing with my face buried in my carpet the next. The hate pain very quickly turned to this blissful cathartic release. each stroke hurt and burnt and felt like an electric exhale of internal pressure. A very wanky way of saying i needed it, and if i had been coherent enough during i would have asked him for more.

When he told me to get on the bed i scrambled up and offered myself to Him. And he took what is his without mercy. fucking me hard from behind and using me. the tears hadn’t stopped and i felt both so so happy having him inside me, moving in me and feeling that close to him and be used by him, and also desperately sad. In each thrust I wanted him to claim me and own me, which i feel he did and does. But the sad overthinking emotional part was just thinking about him leaving and how that scared me.

When he had finished he ordered me to clean his cock, which i did gladly and then we curled up together. He said he was pleased and later said how he was so glad to be able to read my personal limits and know what i can take and what i cant. I felt myself give that ugly vulnerable side to him, and let him win. Because I trust him to know what to do, and to not turn away when he sees me like that.

I often feel very ugly, my back is always on my mind now, its not just a hip ache its a way of being. I feel like i cant move how i want or stretch how i want. I felt useless and like a lump of passionless flesh. I think this feeling of inadequacy was especially strong yesterday.

It was a bit intense for me, but it was cathartic and necessary.

funk to funky-

I have been writing poetry again which has been a wonderful outlet for me lately. I often think of sharing them with my Master, though some of them are about Him and how I feel and so i find my self faltering when thinking of sharing.

I read an F.Scott Fitzgerald quote this morning which really touched me, and reminded me about my past relationship especially. The protagonist tells their friend Dot, how winning the thing they most wanted was the worst thing that happened to them, how when they held it in their hands it turned to dust. I often think about the man I used to love, how we pined for each other and then totally abandoned each other at one point or another and how the thing we worked hard for dissolved into bad blood and a jaded sense of wasted time. I’m not so jaded to feel that Fitzgerald holds the whole truth here, because the whole truth cant ever be summarised, not even between the pages of a novel, a thesis, a theory. I do feel that the thing we most want and the thing we get rarely aligns, and that being taught from a young age to dream about our soulmates and out perfect heathcliffe and Cathy lovers which are out there somewhere just waiting for us to show up and then die or marry someone else and break our hearts has poisoned people. I made the mistake of thinking that the only way i can love is alone and in secret. When I can do more than that. I can serve and I can hurt and I can daydream, I can compromise, and I can let go. I do believe we can hold the thing we most want and be good to it, be bad to it, cultivate it and dishonor it, i hope for all these things, its more complex than something just dying, its putting self second, its not asking for more, its asking for something and it’s being honest about what you want from yourself to yourself…what I mean to say is…To do something truly remarkable and worthwhile is also to hurt and lose sometimes. sometimes its winning too, of course, but perhaps my wins are nights spent in comfortable conversation, or spilling blood and tears and feeling truly naked and wanted in that most vulnerable moment, or swimming amongst the rocks on a hot summers afternoon.

I think i feel this way because i take no pleasure in owning. For me, owning always seemed so final. I hope my Master doesn’t feel this way! But I do. I don’t want to own I want to serve and love and give and be heard. It doesn’t mean I don’t also wish for someone to share my time with, but i don’t see the person holding the thing they most want as being healthy. I feel we are never meant to hold it, but sit next to it, acknowledge it, cherish it, sometimes chide it, and say I’m glad you were born and that I can be in your company. Of course something will turn to dust if we smother it. At this moment the thing I most want is to be with my Master. That is not possible, but even if it were, i do not believe it would turn to dust, it may turn into something else. But it would not die.

 

Beg me.

I’ve never been good at begging
I get extraordinarily shy and it takes a lot of coaxing and or desperation for me to swallow down the fear and beg for what I want. A part of me has never really liked it when a sub begs..I feel its almost like saying the master doesn’t know what best for their sub..but sometimes what’s best is to feel comfortable asking for whatever it is they want. And I have to admit it turns me on so very much when Master tells me to beg. To beg to cum or to beg to piss. I love the control I love Him having that much control over my body. I want to piss myself begging for release. Its extrmely sexy being told to beg..less so actually doing it because it’s still rather frightening. But the more I share with Him the easier it gets.
He has asked me to tell Him when I’m aroused and what I’m thinking about. To discuss it without editing (not that I edit much at all with Him anyway) has been so helpful.

Cum for me.

I have relatively low blood pressure most of the time,and when the weather changes it drops even more and I become an even more vague and daydreamy slut.. Today I forgot to send my Master a selfie before midday..because I was so vague I wasn’t watching the clock anndd He had given me permission to try my arousal oil and cum..understandably His greedy and vague slut had her one track mind on her desperate cunt as opposed to the daily task..
My punishment: Cum ten times before midnight…I’m both squirming with lust and I’m nervous as to whether my troublesome pussy will make it out alive :/

Denial.

Orgasm control is a really big kink for me. I love knowing that my body and consequently my pleasure is owned by my Master..but I must admit that I’m currently pouting and going ever slowly insane!!
I want to throw a tantrum as much as I want to pounce on my Master and smother him with licks and attempt (a no doubt clumsy) seduction until he is inside me and I’m riding waves of happy orgasmic feels.
Going by his mood tonight,where I imagine he was smirking at my slutty needs,even if he was fucking me I could imagine him denying me release.
Argh. I was squirming around all day at work today..day dreaming about his cock or slipping my fingers into my panties just to tease my clit for but a moment…
I’m going crazy.

Just an entry.

I don’t get the opportunity to discuss my relationship with my Master often. I do however have a very dear friend in England who very patiently lets me share. I sometimes wonder if it all sounds a little too good. I am owned by a very nice man, who is exceptionally gifted as a lifestyle Dominant and as a sexual Dom. He quite literally has made my little subby heart swoon with His deft strokes of His belt and soft kisses alike.

I talk to my friend about how Master ties me up and has His wicked way with me, how he has me reflexively diving onto His cock as He cums, and how He tasks me to train to be the best fuckslave I can be for Him. I also tell my friend of how I have a space to be a playful puppy, or how my Master owns little parts of my day to day routine. How He has the best cock I’ve ever fucked, sucked and lapped clean. How He will have me wait naked at my door holding coffee for Him, or how He controlled me even when I was interstate.

He pushes me and encourages me to be the best version of my self, both for Him, His  pleasure and for my own self efficacy. I have quit smoking, engaged in acts I never thought possible, and I have overcome a great many personal anxieties.

I push myself to cognitively re-frame things that scare me, and make me feel inadequate. By that I mean I re understand something that may be at first really hard to comprehend, for example some types of needle play. I find it very calming knowing that He is in charge, and He knows my limits both physical and psychological so well that I trust Him to know best. There are layers to fear, insecurity and pain. For me at least. There is the intellectual perspective and the emotive. Both feed off of and bleed into each other, but there are multiple ways that they can be understood and felt. I can conquer the intellectual side usually, and slowly try to shift the emotional side. Reconciling the two takes a lot of work, the rewards of which are much!