The gift of dominance

Kitty and I just had this discussion - we chroniclers of life see things and they tick in our brain, and get our thoughts flowing. And that makes it seem like things run in cycles in blogland. Riley recently wrote a post called Dominance is a Gift, too, too (Thanks, Conina!), which got me thinking. We often hear submission is a gift, and indeed it is. But so is Dominance. I luxuriate in his control.It's not one sided. Both give, both receive. It is reciprocity, I talk about it in Honor, and lil talks about it in her beautiful post on Expressions of Dominance.

In any event, I was having a discussion with a DD friend today. And this exchange occurred:
Friend: Awww. Just as I suspected.Your entire emotional well-being and sense of self derive from him?
Me:  my happiness, not my complete well-being  - my sense of self is confirmed in him, he accepts my whole self
Friend: He is truly your soul then.
Me: he is, I cannot be who I am without his acceptance 
Friend: Did you live before him? Or was it like God breathing life into Adam?
Me: I existed before him. Yes, absolutely, he animated me

So the two events conspired to create this post. Yes, I could not be who I am without his accepting my submission. And perhaps my expression of submission allows him to express his dominance in more complete ways. Either way...he has often thanks me for the gift of my submission, and I do not believe that I have thanked him for his gift of dominance.



So to my well-loved Daddy I say...



I have thanked you for loving me, and I always will, every second of every day, for the rest of our lives and beyond. No one – NO ONE – has ever loved me in the way that you do. No one has ever loved me unconditionally. There have been ‘I love you….but’s ...always a reason I was unworthy of being completely loved. It’s not that I don’t trust you, I trust you with my life. I am just so not used to NOT hearing the but. I keep waiting; it never comes. That astounds me. And it takes a little while to stop waiting, but I’m working on it. 

I have not thanked you for your gift of Dominance, for that sure, safe feeling, for that refuge in your arms that comes from your strength, from the sheer force of your presence. Without that gift, I would not be free to express my submission. I would not be free to be who I am at my very core. I blossom, I feel my leaves unfurl in my heart and burst forth with a vibrancy I never thought I would experience. 



I thrive under your hand and with your love, your guidance, and your discipline. I am filled with your strength, your warmth, your nurturing and your light – my goodness – you are a brilliant soul. I am grateful. I am joyous. I am proud to be called yours. 

Thank you for your gift to me, which allows me to express my true self, and to thrive and grow. Thank you for accepting who I am and what I have to offer. 

Insecurity revisited

I did a post a little while ago on insecurity.  I know lots of us have rules about insecurity, putting ourselves down and negative self-image. For a while I thought I understood why that was. Obviously being negative in any measure over any issue is not healthy. It doesn't help us grow. And I thought well, my insecurity was about questioning his taste. 'I wouldn't choose anyone not worthy'.

Lots of times I am occupied with a task, and a thought will drop perfectly formed into the center of my vacant little mind. So there I was, happily (well, not really, but it has to be done...) cleaning the upstairs. As I was on my hands and knees, cleaning woodwork, that perfectly shiny, worked smooth and round little thought, dropped right in the center of my conscious thought (makes you wonder about how my mind works, huh? Join the club, I'm baffled, too!).

It's not anything to do with thinking he'd be offended by my questioning his taste. When I think that I am not enough, when I think that I am not attractive, when I worry that I am not pleasing, I am not doubting my loveability. I am doubting his veracity and his sincerity. I am doubting his love. That looks a whole lot worse than doubting myself.



I love him. I trust him with my life, literally. Yet I miss drawing into myself the truth of his words and the depth of his feeling - 'You are beautiful. You complete me. You make me proud.' and letting them take root.



To my Daddy, I am sorry, dear true love. I did not realize that my doubt which reflects my fear about myself, reflected  a doubt in you that does not exist. You are the one solid thing in my world. You are the one person that I have ever been able to trust. So I will allow those truths of your heart seed and take root in mine. And I will allow my trust and faith in you polish away my doubts in myself.

I am beautiful, because my heart is without guile, and because I reflect the greatest love I have ever experienced. I am enough, because somehow I fill the emptiness in you. Like many things in this life, I don't have to understand it, only to accept that that is the way of it and it sweeps me up in wonder.

Obedience

In 1961 Yale psychologist Stanley Milgram conducted an experiment on obedience. The purpose was to discover what circumstances led people to become complicit in the genocide initiated by Hitler and the Nazi party. His experiment produced results which provided insight into the mechanics of obedience. But it did not address the why of obedience. Obviously in Germany the whys of obedience were pretty straightforward, comply or you , your family, your children suffer the same fate. But in the Milgram experiment there was no ax over the head of the participants who were convinced that they were delivering excruciating series of shocks to other participants. And it left me to question why then comply.

This curiosity probably relates to the curiosity people feel when they wonder why a submissive person submits. But here too I see a large gulf. In the Milgram experiment there was no relation to the experimenter/authority, but the participants deferred to him, especially when he was in closer proximity. This is where I have a difficult time understanding obedience. There is nothing to be gained from obedience, and nothing to be lost in defiance. When the test is over, the relationship is dissolved. We had to write a paper on the experiment, and I had a really hard time to keep from discussing obedience in DD, D/s relationships. I find obedience much easier to understand in that context.

In our relationships we obviously have a relation to our authority. We find a person. We develop a deep trust in that person. We grant that person authority over us. We submit to that person. We are obedient to that person. Why? I can only answer from my perspective, but I'd sure love to hear some feedback from my friends in the community.



First let me say that I do not obey or submit out of fear. If I feared him I would not submit to him. When interacting with other people I am mindful that I represent him. And I conduct myself in ways that can bring him honor. When he makes a rule I am mindful that it was made for my betterment, and for our advancement and growth. When I consider my behavior, I consider what Daddy would find pleasing, whether there is an established rule or not because I know the direction he envisions for us. When we interact, I obey because he is my authority. He will never ask me to do something harmful or diminishing.

Why? Because it is intoxicating to yield to him and to feel his control. Because I enjoy making him proud. Because when I fill him with my submission and my obedience, I am filled by the look in his eyes, the softness of his gaze, the caress of his hand and his voice. I am filled by "You make me proud, little one". I am filled by, "You are my good girl." I am filled by, "You make it easy to be your Daddy." His touch, his words, his gaze, his caress, they are intoxicating to me. I get this sensation that we fondly call 'brain tickles'. I'd bet a lot it has to do with endorphins. He is the only one that can produce that sensation. And it cycles back to increased trust, and increased submission, increased pride, increased closeness.

Losing my submission?

When Ward left one of my greatest fears was that I would lose my submission. I wrote about it in a post right after he left, When Submission Is Hard. I worried than when he was not here that I would lose that focus, that I would become so used to not being led that I would feel resistant to his authority.




It's hard to explain the experience of being submissive. I imagine, like everything else in this life that everything is very individualized, everyone's experience a little different. For me, when he is here, the air is easy in my lungs, I have a level of comfort that is extraordinary, my focus is sharp, all the noise that invades our lives fades away. It's just me, my man, my children, our unit.




I was terrified that when he left I would be swirled up and pulled under. In the post I mentioned above, I said "I feel a bit lost and rudderless...my guide is gone." I have found that, yes, sometimes I am sad and overwhelmed, yes, sometimes I feel that I am drowning. But my guide is not gone. He is in my heart, he is my anchor. While the seas may be rough, and I may be tossed about, I am safe, because he holds me in his heart, and I hold him in mine.

I realized in that post that my service could be expressed by making him proud, by being strong and supportive, and by representing him well. I represent him and his leadership as the head of this family. I know his expectations. I understand his vision and his goals for us and for our family. And even if he is not physically here, I can be what he wishes me to be, I can conduct myself in ways that make myself proud, and make him proud, and further our journey. I can be aware that he is a strong and virtuous man who has provided structure to support us in his absence.

Ward had an unexpected opportunity to call us a few weeks ago. I was sitting here doing school work, and his ringtone came over the phone. I wheeled around and stared at the phone, time seemed to come to a stop. The boys were jumping up and down, "He's calling you! He's calling you!" I answered the phone, head spinning, heart pounding, "Ward?" And a rich, thick, honey-smooth voice said, "Hello, sweetheart."

 And I felt his smile and I felt his warmth, and I felt not one single centimeter of distance. I felt, if possible, closer to this man that I adore. I felt myself fold into him, and it was comfortable. I was home. My fears were unfounded, there is no distance too far, no burden great enough to lessen the love and devotion I feel for him. Losing my submission? Not at all. My desire to please him, and to serve him, and to love him, and to be his soft place to land has not diminished, it has grown exponentially.

For my Daddy, for my love (Poetry)

When the world

is chaffing hard and cold,

I will yield

to your wisdom, will and touch

When you feel

used and objectified

my love and respect

will blanket you

When you are empty

my heart will fill you

from the fountain that

flows within it for you

When you are weary

I will minister to you
hands kneading the ache
from your body,
our bodies transporting us
on the waves of energy
that we create

I will be your
little girl
when you need
to be silly and free

I will be
your woman
when you need
my maturity

I will bend
to your desires and will
without breaking
and give my
strength and flexibility
to fortify us

I love you.

~June~ 3-09-12

How Ward became Daddy

Ward and I had been talking for several months. It was after the deployment I spoke of in the last post. And honestly we were still 'friends' (who talked several hours every day...yeah, yeah, I'm a lil slow) and before we were Ward and June.

We had actually talked about littles. A friend had told me that I had a little, that she saw it. And I immediately rejected that concept. To me that was like a mark of mental illness, I immediately thought DID (dissociative identity disorder). Ward and I talked about it, and he assured me that he didn't see anything alarming in who I was, and did see some childlike qualities. I talked to my therapist about it, and called it my little piece of arrested development. She said she thought it was just a very vulnerable piece of me that I had never trusted anyone with. Well that felt better.

I had talked to Ward about it and he said that seemed a logical conclusion, especially in light of my childhood. So I started researching littles. And It seemed at first that it was all about ageplay and incest play, and that was a big no-no with my childhood. Ward and I talked about that, too. He agreed that he was not interested in ageplay. And it just kind of settled. I still researched, like I do with many things I need to understand. But neither of us considered it a factor in our .... friendship.

One night, we were talking and I had had a particularly stressful day, and he said something very comforting and Ward-like. And I started crying. Ward said, "If I were with you right now, this is where I would take you in my arms, kiss away your tears, calm your heart, tuck you into bed and tell you a fairy tale, especially for you." And even though  he was not there in that exact moment, I felt cradled, and comforted, and I said, without a thought, "Kinda story, Daddy? With princesses and magick?" And he said, "Yes, love, with a very special little princess, and magick and faeries. Hush now and listen."

And he wove me the most wondrous story, off the top of his head, that lulled me, soothed me and gave me the most delicious brain tickles. It wasn't strange, and it wasn't icky, and it felt extraordinarily good. It was organic, and kind of symbolic of our relationship, very amoebic, we stretch to encompass, consume and satisfy the needs of the other.

He says that I awoke a part of him that he thought was gone forever. And with him I can be that which I have never been able to be, small, vulnerable, trusting and unbetrayed and totally genuine.

And now I'm crying.... I love you, Daddy, and I miss you so.

The story of how we met

Conina asked how Ward and I met. And I have given dribs and drabs of the story, but not the whole story. So, here we go, and I guess I should start with how I got to there.

First of all, as I said in a previous, yes, folks, I am a spanko. And yes, you can be a spanko in a DD relationship. I have been intrigued with spanking since I was five. I think because there never was, there was no consistency, no discipline, no one or nothing dependable. It was all dependent on the womb donors moods. and  there were no spankings, there were closed fisted beatings, being kicked, driven into corners.

I have always deferred in each of my three previous relationships. My partners had no idea what to do with that. They were more domineering than dominant, though at that point I had no idea I was looking for a dominant. After my ex left I decided that I would try and find someone who would be interested in a spanking kind of relationship, someone who would provide structure and someone who would lead. I have no idea at the time of DD, and no idea where to look.

I did searches of spanking dating sites and started to learn the language, then started looking at DD dating sites, and found mostly meat markets. "Oh hi, I'll be through your town next week, wanna get get together and I'll spank you?" Ummmm, no thanks. Even worse, "I'll spank you if you spank me." Ummmmm, double no thanks - I'm the spankee, not the spanker, thanks very much. And let's not even talk about collarme, which a friend referred me to.

  

One of the jobs I freelance we evaluate websites. And I tripped across Fetlife. Well it was interesting, so I bookmarked it and came back to look at it. I liked what I saw. Not a meat market, but a place that seemed to have friendlier kind of people, and ways to learn about a variety of subjects. Well I decided after reading that - hey - I was a submissive. I read and researched from a variety of places. Yup-yup - that's me. I met and played with a couple of sadists. Scratched the itch to a certain extent, but I wanted more, needed more. I craved not just sensation play, but discipline and control as well, not just in play, but in my life.



I am the kind of person, who if I get good service, I call the store and tell the manager. Or stop on the way out and tell a manager that a particular employee gave exceptional service. Or call the restaurant we got take out from to tell them the food was awesome. I do it because everyone complains and not many people express gratitude. It is taken for granted.

So here I am on FetLife. One of my friends liked a writing. So I went to read it. It was Ward's Healthy Pain. It was beautiful. This man understood how I felt, that was amazing. It was more spiritual for him than the other dominants I had encountered. So I wrote to him to tell him that I liked it and it affected me. I expected nothing, and thought he had a girl, because of the poem. So the conversation went like this:

June:   
Your writings are quite exquisite and speak with incredible maturity. Your girl is very lucky.
Respectfully, June

Ward:   
Smiles,

Thank you for reading! Writing is a very fundamental part of my life, I think it hones my intellect and centers me in the midst of my stressful life. One day I hope to find someone worthy to share the kind of life depicted with...until then I keep writing!

Thanks Again!

June:    
I know what you mean. In another life, when I didn't have 2 kids and 3 jobs, I used to write as well. One of mine echoes your sentiment about the need to write. (I shared the poem w/him)

Ward:  
Thank you so much for sharing, I found this quite vibrant, I very much felt it! It was an honor chatting with you.

June:    
Thank you very much. It was an honor chatting with you as well :)

Ward:    
May I have the honor of calling you friend?

June:    
Yes, you may, that would be quite lovely. Thank you :)

He was quite different from anyone I had ever known. He possessed all the qualities I sought. But I thought there was no way that this beautiful person could love perfectly imperfect just me. But love me he did. 

From that first exchange, we were in contact every day. When he was deployed shortly after that I continued to email him, knowing he was gone, because I wanted him to know that someone was thinking about him while he was gone. The night he came back, he called. 

I found that he called to me profoundly. I have never responded to another person as I respond to him. Yielding to him is easy, and gives me immense pleasure. For his part he says that he has never met someone as submissive as I am. It's a lovely symbiosis. It has been completely natural, completely easy, completely organic. Everyone who knows us, even the ones that don't know we are a DD couple, remark that we are completely made for each other, and how we shine. Our friends who have known us from before we were Ward and June say they have never seen us as happy as we are together.

So that's the story of how we came together.

Sometimes it's hard

...to be who we are, and not be with the person that we love. How in the world do you take up a burden that crushed your spirit before? How do you walk the world alone for periods of time? My God it's hard. It's not that the person has abandoned you, though in all honesty it does feel like it sometimes. As as you may have seen Stormy and I discuss on her blog, sometimes you get angry because you have decided to let this person lead, and then they are not there and the loneliness can be crushing.

Stormy asked me how I dealt with being award from my Ward. And I didn't really know how to answer that, because I don't always feel like I am as successful as I hoped to be. But there are things I do, to keep me sane. I carry a pad around with me, and I write, all the little details of our day. It helps us, the boys and I, to keep him present. We celebrated his birthday, went out to dinner, had a cake with his name on it, the boys blew out the candles. We took pictures to send. As much as it helps us to keep him present in our lives, I imagine it helps him to know that he is important enough to us that we do it, and he doesn't miss any little thing. I want him to know everything (yes, even if I am not shown in the very best light...yes, if I feel widgy or whiny, I tell him, he'll deal with it when he gets back - that's a relief for me, and perhaps for him, too... yes even when I break a rule - he's not here, but he's still my authority, and I owe him my honesty above all else.)



Know that his schedule underway is arduous. He doesn't work the same hours any two days. He has about 5 hours during which he can sleep, read, write, whatever he likes. So the letters from him are not as prodigious as they are from here. But I take those letters and I read them over and over, ever day. They carry his magic. They strengthen his presence in my mind. I always feel him. Sometimes my own emotions may threaten to drown him out. But those letters, they ground me, just like he does. I did a stupid thing, and I don't know why. I thought, maybe - and I acknowledge that I think too much sometimes - that if I read them too much they'd lose their magic. And I stopped reading them daily. And I started spinning like a crazy little battling top, bashing myself up against the walls of my own insecurities. When I gave in and read again, it was like slipping into a lovely, warm, comfortable embrace. The magic doesn't go away, it just gets stronger. So to Stormy, maybe ask Ogre to write a line or two when he can, or even an email (that's a luxury Ward doesn't have, unfortunately). And read them, they help.

But maybe the most important thing I do is remember why I love this man. And we have had this discussion. "What if I left the Navy, would you think less of me?" -  "How could I possibly think less of you, love? You are a good and honorable man. That won't change if you take off that uniform. You make that uniform mean something. It lends nothing to you. You lend it, and the Navy that it represents, your nobility, your strength, you honor, your character. But could you be happy? This was a choice you made, and I wouldn't have you change it for me." -  "I made the choice years ago, when I was a different man, when I was a single man and now I have a family to consider."

He is upright and strong. He is committed and honorable. I can't begrudge the thing that takes him away from me, because it is part of who he is, and part of what has formed him. It fulfills a purpose for him - to be of service to a country that he holds dear. It has refined his skills as a leader. It has afforded him an opportunity to practice his compassion and his fairness. And countless people have benefited from knowing him. The ripples of his goodness spread to the far corners of the earth.

Before me and the boys he may have had different reasons for doing what he did. Now what he does is a means to an end, of building a structure of a secure life for us. He doesn't do it because he wants to be away from us. He does it because he has a commitment. He does it because it will give us firm footing.

So, Stormy, I would say there are things you can do, like the letters, and things that keep him present - it does take work, it's worth it to feel him. And then examine those posts you make about what kind of man he is, why you love him, and how deep that love goes. And ask yourself, does he do this to be away? Or does he do it to provide things for you and your family? Does he do this to build a strong foundation for you? Ask yourself if maybe the distance is as hard for him as it is for you? Does he suffer insecurities that maybe he doesn't share? Read those things written about how very much you love him and ask if that good strong man wants - deserves - to come home to distance, or to a woman who adores him and relishes the time together, so that he can fall into his safe place to land.



I am trying hard to remember those things. I'm trying hard not to let that anger take root. When Ward walks off that boat, I want him to see my smile, I want him to see my love radiating out of that place like a homing beacon. I want him to know that I have felt him and his leadership and the structure of our lives, even in his physical absence. It's not an easy thing that we do. But if we do it well - well that's just one more reason to love us, one more reason to cherish us. I think, perhaps, that could just make us extraordinary.

Insecurity

I have talked about my insecurities before. I honestly think I have overcome them with Daddy. I don't have the constant fear that he will realize that I am perfectly imperfect just me, and why is he settling for that? He loves me. He sees things in me that I can't conceive of, but he assures me that he will show me. I trust him. He will, and as in all things, because he has my complete trust, I will follow him, and learn what he has to teach.

In this surprise letter, that warmed me and delighted me and gave me immeasurable joy, Daddy said that he's insecure sometimes, too. He said that his career had cost him relationships in the past. And I told him that I wasn't going anywhere. And I thought, because it is easier to put it in writing and to examine it sometimes, I would do it here. I've been sending him the posts in his letters. So this is a love letter to Daddy.....with witnesses.

****************

I walked alone for many years. I ached to be complete. I ached for the person who would see me, really see me and love me just as I am - perfectly imperfect just me. I ached for the person who would call that part of me that only responds when trust is complete. I ached for the person who would accept and treasure my service. I ached for the person that could fill me, and let me fill them, for the person who would let me pour myself out on them, and who would in return pour themselves out on me, leaving me not depleted, but bursting and joyous. After many years, and many false steps, I gave up. This person could surely not exist. 

Against all odds, I heard a voice. And that voice touched places in me. And I thanked the voice for it's gift, expecting nothing in return. From behind the voice, stepped a gallant gentleman who extended his hand and tipped his hat. He shone brightly, amazed me time and time again with beauty, deep and absolutely genuine, with wisdom well beyond his years. And I thought, someday, some girl will be very lucky, because surely someone like that could not be meant for me.

And as time passed, we found that we filled the empty places, and slowly we let each other in, and let trust take root. Small tentative steps, we'd both been hurt. This most beautiful relationship flourished in the arid climate of my heart. And your love made my heart fertile.

I never realized that you - beautiful you - were insecure - would be afraid of losing perfectly imperfect just me. But I will tell you - with our fine audience as witnesses...

I love you more than I have ever loved another person in my life. I am amazed, honored, and humbled that you love me as deep as you do. I have waited my entire existence for someone who shines as brightly as you do, for someone who calls to my truest self, for someone who loves me pure and strong and true, yang to my yin. 

You, my love, are everything I have ever dreamed of, hoped for, and more. I have waited all my life. And now that I have this great thing that most people only dream of I will always treasure and nurture it. It may be hard, all the waiting. But you are worth every second.And I will wait as long as I need for you. Because I am not complete without you. I love you with every fiber of my being, and no time or distance will ever be burden enough to quench my love and desire for you. I am  here for the distance. I am honored to be your woman and your little girl. And I am thrilled and honored to call you my man - my Daddy- my world.

I love you

I am a bundle of need

I need my Ward.
I need to be in his arms.
I need his scent.

I need his lips pressed to my forehead.   
I need his strength.
I need his smile.
I need the twinkle in his eye.
I need the 'I love you'.
I need the 'I'm proud of you'.
I need the flare of light that surrounds us.
I need to feel his control.
I need to to stand before him, to express my submission in ways that he finds pleasing.
I need to feel his eyes roaming across my body.
I need that breathless anticipation.
I need his hands on me.
And yes, ladies and gentleman, I am a spanko. I need to be across his lap.
 I need the good girls. (the correction, not so much, but hey, that's part of this life if earned).

I need his discipline. I need his firm and gentle hands to push the worry, frustration and hideous longing from my body. I need to feel his energy, his presence, sliding my pants to the floor, the pounding of my heart in my chest. I need his fingers to tilt my eyes to his. I need to see the warmth and love radiating from this being that I love with all that I am, and that I cannot believe that I have been blessed enough to deserve in my life. I need his voice, thick and sweet like honey soothing the deepest parts of my soul, "You need this, my love." I need his lips pressed to my forehead. I need the grace that comes only from bending to his will, in submitting all of who I am to this good man. I need his hands to guide me across his lap. I need his hands caressing, wordlessly speaking love and care. I need to feel him lean across my body to plant a kiss on my hip, my back, my shoulder, my neck, then a whisper, "This is not a punishment, but it will be firm, because that is what you need, and because I love you."

I need to feel his hands fervently, reverently tending to my needs, to his own needs, feeding us, filling us. I need the heat that he brings. I need the explosion of trust in my chest that I can lay my body, heart and soul bare to this man, and that he will raise me up and heal that which diminishes me. I need the pain that he gifts me to wash the hurt and the loneliness from my heart. I need to lose myself in him. I need him to open the gates that allow me to wash my burdens away on cleansing tears. Because he loves me enough to burnish me, to polish me, to turn me into something beautiful. Because he is my world, he is my heart and my soul and without him, I am incomplete.

      I need my Ward.