Monday, September 20, 2010

Forgiveness - alex

The feeling of frustration when things start to go wrong as a submissive, can be horrible. For me it feels like a tight ball of black energy at the base of my neck which i just can’t get rid of. It stays there; clouds my vision. When my frustration is at its worst, I almost feel as though I’m floating above myself watching myself react childishly, and yet powerless to stop. Justifications and indignation spurt out of my mouth before I have the presence of mind to bite my tongue. So swiftly what was a small issue becomes a giant one.
This is exactly what happened to me earlier this week. I was so foolish. It started as a small issue, as it always does. I had a moment of insecurity which I thought was well hidden. And it probably would have been well hidden to anyone else. But Mistress saw, immediately. I’m still shocked by how easily she saw what i thought was a hidden moment, of withdrawing into myself, of taking my eyes away from Her. It was just a brief silence but Mistress saw it and knew what was in my heart, lurking inside me. In my day to day life, all of those little frustrations seem easier to deal with somehow, at least on the surface. Well that’s the thing though. They aren’t dealt with so much as ... buried. They are tucked away into a private corner of the mind, most likely to fester or turn into deeper dishonesties and disconnections over time.

As Mistress questioned me, i realised that She would tolerate no such burying from me. i struggled to say all the things i thought i was supposed to say to dispel the situation: “i am tired”; “i’m just distracted” and i even believed it of myself. But I wasn’t .. i was upset and indignant. I felt entitled to better treatment. I wanted to argue and justify, and at the same time I wanted to steal away and hide my feelings of indignation. I desperately wanted to bury them so that i could come back tomorrow with my dignity intact, but with those emotions secretly stacked one on top of the other in a small locked box inside me. The last thing I wanted to do was actually accept my place. The last thing i wanted was for the truth to out.

I could feel Mistress taking my chin, lifting my face and staring deep inside me. As her demands grew in intensity she actually seemed to grow in stature, filling the room. I felt surrounded. Cornered. I felt those feelings i wanted to hide lit under the hot spotlight of her intensity and perception. As the frustration welled up inside me so did her strength and will. It matched and eclipsed me as she stared into my soul, seeing that splinter of indignation and defiance in me, demanding that it be brought to the surface. Resolved.

I put up a fight. I didn’t simply cave in. My frustration and defiance had grown to the point that it had its own life. Mistress forcefully stripped me bare, ripping away the layers i threw up until i lay prone beneath her gaze. I expected concessions from Mistress, and i got none. I expected compromise and negotiation and some acknowledgement that my emotions had been justified. None came. In the end all i had done was dig myself into a prison of my own making.

For the next two days I was isolated, and i had to painfully dig my way out. My power to make things in SL was taken from me which is an excruciating punishment. Fellow designers who knew nothing of bdsm saw clearly that i could be completely locked down, which filled me with hot embarassment.

I was in a room, isolated from my Mistress, left to deal with the remnants of my resistance. Over two days I spent hours kneeling on dried rice writing “I am a fucking wilful, disobedient slut” over and over and over. The pain was excruciating but my remorse was worse. I knew my Mistress was waiting for me on the other side of my punishment, so I took it. Finally Mistress appeared in my cell, and had me fetch my belt. As I strapped my ass red raw for Mistress, She allowed her other boy to cum.

So what did i get for my resistance? My knees were aching and bruised, my ass was hot and unbearably itching and stinging from the strap. More than that though my pride and resistance were in tatters. I had been broken down and stripped bare. I went to bed that night in a daze, squirming as even the touch of the mattress against my skin caused me pain. When i awoke the next morning, the storm had passed. I smiled as i realised that the defiance and walls of dishonesty i had built around my insecurity had been blasted to dust.

Most of all this confession is a thank You to my amazing Mistress. Mistress, thank You for knowing me so well that You can read one silence from another. Thank You for caring so much that You lift my chin, gaze deeper into me than anyone else possibly can, and strip away those small dishonesties that amount to large ones. Thank You for trusting in my strength to force me to recognise my own failings, take my punishment and grow for You. Thank You for Your discipline Mistress.

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