Failure and Forgiveness

For the second time in as many visits, I fucked up - this time by being 'helpful' ... while on the surface it seems as if both incidences boil down to learning to keep my mouth shut, that doesn't solve the underlying problems...  and I've yet to forgive myself for either.

As I mentioned, I was 'helpful' last night... in a really insulting way.  We were headed out to an event and I texted him on my way to pick him up, not to forget the rope.  This was a rope themed event.  On our way there, LD had me pull over and park so he could slap me across the face a few times and remind me exactly how much he dislikes me being 'helpful' ... honest to god if he had berated me any longer I would have cried. The psychological aspect of disappointment gets me so much harder than any physical punishment.  I know that I was quiet the rest of the way over to the event, and probably for most of the evening, thinking about my recent failures.

Now, I'm secure in where my relationship is with LD... I'm not afraid that he's going to drop me or leave me because of these mistakes... developing a relationship like this, especially after I have spent so long in the Dominant role, is a learning curve.  Old dog, new tricks (well, older but forgotten tricks) and all that jazz.  All of that said, I do not forgive myself easily... or at all really... I am a perfectionist, and when I set my sights on doing something perfectly, I take it especially hard when I fuck up.  Lately, it feels like I've been doing a lot of fucking up.

Arriving home, I pull out my phone to text Him to let Him know I arrived home safely.  I have a waiting text message from Him saying "I forgive you" ... sent 3 hours previously, after we had just arrived at the event.  While I very much needed those words from him, I still haven't forgiven myself... for EITHER fuck up... but, who am I to withhold forgiveness? If He has forgiven me, that should be enough - by not forgiving myself I am second guessing His decisions and presuming to know better whether I should be forgiven. This of course makes me feel like more of a failure. Wash, rinse, repeat.

Last night took me an HOUR to orgasm (yes, I'm surprised I didn't just give up and go to sleep) because I just couldn't let go.  At the best of times my thoughts aren't focused and it's difficult for me to cum, but when those thoughts are all about my recent failures, it does not make for a particularly sexy head space. 

I'm truly at a loss as to how to deal with this.

I have no qualms with asking Him for what I need in order to forgive myself, or making suggestions on how to deal with my failure in future so that I can let go... I just have no clue what to ask for.  This is also tricky, because it can quickly become a downward spiral - LD can't break me of this habit by punishing me for it, because then I just have one more thing to not forgive myself for, which leads to more punishments, and more not-forgiving, etc, etc...   Last night, I considered asking him to punish me further when we saw each other next, but I'm not sure that will help either... I will know that it's not a 'real' punishment because he has already forgiven me, and at best he is catering to me (at worst, I'm topping from the bottom).  Does he just need to punish me harder for future infractions? Will that make me feel as if I have 'earned' his forgiveness?  How do you punish a masochist?!  If you beat me until I'm black and blue... until I break down crying... for fun...  what do you do for punishment?  Yes, I enjoy being slapped across the face (oh yum), and no, last night's slapping was not enjoyable (ok, maybe a very very little bit it was), BECAUSE it was not being done for fun...  but I'm not sure that physical punishment can be wholly defined by the psychological intent behind it.  That gets confusing very quickly... the body reacts to stimulus without the brain's involvement, and I really should not be deriving any pleasure out of a punishment.  

I had hoped that a night of sleep would add some perspective, or foster an epiphany, or even just bring some forgiveness, but alas it has not.

As an aside... LD commented last night that yesterday's blog post was..  tame? boring? I don't remember the exact word he used, but I couldn't help but think that we didn't do anything particularly 'hardcore' or shocking over the weekend for me to discuss.  Other than beating myself up over slipping into a Dominant headspace, there wasn't much exciting. Don't get me wrong - I love weekends like that just as much as I love the crazy-hardcore-she-did-WHAT?! weekends... you need some of each in my opinion. I apologize, Sir, but I am not an endless pit of angst and neurosis - though it may seem like that sometimes, I think that a life like that would be very stressful.  A lack of blog material is probably a good sign ;)

The Dominant submissive

What am I doing?  

Do I honestly think that I could ever give myself over to another person so wholly and completely? 

Would this not require suppressing my Dominant side?  

This, Dear Readers, would be impossible.  Being given 'toys' to express my Dominant side with would be enjoyable, but would that really give me an outlet that would exhaust that part of my personality and leave me docile and submissive in His presence?  I'm pretty certain He doesn't really want me "docile" though - He enjoys my fire and fierceness...  I just need to figure out the right balance... scratch that, I know that I can't figure it out on my own... I need Him to help me find that balance.

This weekend, I was given free reign to tease and pleasure Him, and was told to verbalize some of my Dominant fantasies and ideas should we bring a third in to our bedroom.  As a Dominant, I very much enjoy teasing and denial, and brought Him to the edge a number of times before leaving Him to cool down a little.  Between this and expressing my wicked ideas, I forgot myself and found myself in a very Dominant mindset.  I opened my mouth and made some sort of comment about being in control.

Big mistake.

I was reminded quite sternly that 'freedom of action' does not equal 'freedom of will', and that while I may be free to do as I please that evening, it was because I was being ALLOWED to do so, and that it was His will that allowed it.

How many times will I forget myself?  Is this an argument for never allowing me freedom of action? Obviously if you give me an inch I turn in to an uppity wench with airs above her station.  

Other than forgetting myself, I had a wonderful night with him and the next day discovered a new and delicious kink, which brought me right back to my internal conflict of the previous evening.

Now, I have always found musicians to be sexy... talent of any sort really... you can be an athlete, musician, artist or mechanic.. watching you do what you excel at is unbearably sexy to me...  the talent, the concentration, the look of pure enjoyment on their face.. I'm not sure exactly what it is that captivates me and turns me on... but there you have it.

LD is a pianist.  Saturday He brought out his keyboard in preparation for a gig that evening, and He wanted to make sure everything was in working order.  While I couldn't hear any of what He was playing, just watching His fingers dance over the keys got me worked up.  LD seemed truly baffled by this... like He couldn't understand that His talent was sexy.  I literally threw myself at Him afterwards, a continuation of the hot and heavy kissing in the elevator to get His keyboard.  LD commented on my aggressiveness, and I realized that He was right - I am rarely aggressive or initiate sexual contact.  

I thought about this briefly and realized that I hold some confusion as to when I feel like I can be "myself" and aggressive/forward/(Dominant) with sexual contact, and when I must be the submissive 'living doll'...  To be honest I'm still conflicted over this... and it brings me right back to my struggle of the previous evening.  I often have very Dominant or aggressive urges with LD - all of them sexual.  I never feel the urge to challenge him in any sort of power dynamic, I just simply want to throw myself at Him and have a wild frenzy of screaming-yourself-hoarse sex.  The kind that makes you pass out afterwards in a tangle of sated and sweaty limbs, too exhausted to even pull the covers over you (or get up off of the kitchen table, or move the rug that's digging in to your back).  But how do I do this "submissively"? When can I act on these urges and when will it be seen as trying to take control?

I suspect that this is something that will just take time for me to recognize moods and cues as to when I can initiate and be the 'Dominant sex kitten' throwing myself at Him and taking what I want/need, and when I need to be the high-protocol submissive who doesn't dare blink or breathe without permission.

Funnily enough, on Sunday I was at the opera with my Musical Whore and we had lunch beforehand... we were talking about our sex lives, etc and I mentioned that LD was a musician - her immediate reaction was "fuck musicians are so hot, especially piano players".  At least someone else gets it ;)

The face in the mirror...

"Soft lighting hides the sins of the skin" ... some valuable advice I learned during my brief stint as a porn star.  Many imperfections can be overlooked... harshness is softened. You can hide a lot with soft lighting.

I've carried this advice forward to my Domestic Suburban life - my dressing room has fairly soft light.  I prefer it this way, for obvious reasons, though I do check my makeup in the harsh brightness of the bathroom mirror before leaving the house, just to make sure that I don't look completely like a clown.

This morning, in the light of my dressing room, all made up... I looked in the mirror and didn't recognize the face looking back at me.  She was pretty. No, not pretty... beautiful.. gorgeous... mesmerizing. It felt like I was looking at someone else.  I went to the bathroom to put in my contact lenses and the spell was broken.  A valuable lesson about harsh lighting for all of you.  Bright lights hide nothing.

Now, I'm aware that some people find me attractive.  You can get pretty far with big tits and a willing attitude, and I've had my fair share of partners, yeah?  I know what people think are my most attractive attributes and I've learnt how to dress and use makeup to accentuate them.  All of this is done with cold precision and a calculating eye.  I don't look at myself in the mirror and see an attractive woman, I look at myself clinically and analytically... but this morning... wow, I wanted to do me... I wanted to imprint this image in my mind for all of eternity.  For the brief spellbound moment this morning while gazing in the mirror, I wondered - is this how others see me? or do they see the girl in the bathroom mirror, with all of her imperfections jumping out at them?

For all of my distaste of makeup, I appreciated it just a little bit this morning when I looked in the mirror.

Persistence is a Virtue

Wednesday night is mostly an endorphin fueled blur... I honestly don't remember much after being laced in to the corset... other than discovering afterwards that He'd broken a cane on my ass without me even noticing..  

Yesterday after work while getting undressed for bed I discovered approx. 3" diameter bruises on each ass cheek (hard to tell when looking over your shoulder in to a mirror, and you can bet I'm not letting DH anywhere near them!) The right one is practically black; the left one hot and hard.  Waking up this morning they'd gotten slightly larger and darker.  Wikipedia assures me that bruises take about 72 hours to reach their peak, so hopefully that means they won't get too much worse and I can explain to my tattoo artist why my ass is so perfectly bruised when I undress next Wednesday for him. Think he'll buy the "I slipped and fell" story?

Lesson of the story - don't complain or express wonderment over how your ass hasn't bruised.  Karma will help you out.

A weekend with LD

Saw LD Wednesday, Friday, Saturday and technically a bit of Sunday this past week.  Was a nice blend of protocol and more casual service.  Friday LD had a hellish business trip, flying back in late-ish.  I picked him up from the airport and we just spend a quiet couple of hours de-stressing.  I find that I enjoy improving his mood, it makes me feel accomplished in some weird way.  Woke up Saturday with the sniffles, so LD decided against our original plans of going out somewhere in favour of an evening in.  

Trussed up in a corset, rope harness, and 6" stilettos, we played for a bit (I promptly slipped under into an incoherent endorphin high)... I honestly don't remember much from the point that he bent me over the table to when he started shaking me to 'wake' me up.  Apparently he left a few stripes with the cane without me even so much as flinching, and succeeded in leaving some bruises as well. 

After he brought me back in to the land of the living, I made dinner.  Under his direction.  This was a challenge... I bit my tongue a couple of times and was mostly successful in keeping my facial expressions under control (though there was one look of utter incredulity when he asked if I had things under control and could finish dinner myself).  Those of you who have been to dinner at my place will know why - I am an utter control freak in the kitchen.  The kitchen is MY domain, and woe to anyone who is in there doing anything other than getting drinks or doing dishes.  To have LD direct my cooking was an exasperating task.  I would honestly just prefer "This is what I want for dinner, make it" or even "I feel like something light, use your imagination" and then just let. me. do. my. thing.  Cooking for me is something deeply creative and personal.  It's like directing every brush stroke of someone else's painting.  

Somehow I still managed to crank out a decent meal, and I now have a mental list of every birthday/christmas/anniversary present that LD will ever receive. Note to self: need to bring my steel next time to sharpen his knives.  I think his flatware might have been sharper.  Between his woeful equipment and barren cupboards/fridge, it is quite obvious that LD is living the bachelor life... makes me want to storm the condo one weekend with boxes of prepared meals to keep him going during the week.  

So!  Dinner prepared, we sat down to eat and watch a movie... now, the last movie I saw at the cinema was Slumdog Millionnaire I think... I possibly was dragged out to some forgettable action flick starring Trophy Wife's heartthrob, but I honestly just do not watch a lot of movies, and when I do I tend to prefer documentaries or thought provoking independent-type films.  LD chose "Boogie Nights", which was enjoyable on a superficial level, but somehow managed an ending which was both depressing and trite at the same time.  Finally, it was time for bed.

Yes Dear Readers, I had my first sleepover :D

First of all, let me just say that it takes me a long time to get used to new sleeping situations... when DH and I bought the king sized bed it took me 2 weeks to get used to it.  2 very sleepless and uncomfortable weeks.  Sleeping with LD was much better than that, but still foreign.  Bodies need to find their natural fit against one another, pillows and blankets must be arranged... I normally jerk off right before bed; the endorphins helping me drift off, which I did not do... took me longer than usual to fall asleep and then I slept on and off all night... that strange sleep where all of your senses don't actually turn off, so you're aware of your surroundings, and aware that you're asleep at the same time (please tell me I'm not the only one who sleeps that way sometimes).  Seeing as I enjoy cuddling, even while awake I wasn't exactly bemoaning my fate.  

As predicted though, by 7:30 I was awake for the day.  I suspect that LD could have slept longer.  A quick romp testing out the sturdiness of his bed frame and LD was looking a little more awake. I must say, I'm a huge fan of morning sex (and middle of the night sex, and right before bed sex, and middle of the day sex...) and could totally get used to regular sleepovers.  Was out the door by 9, off to run errands and get things ready for guests that evening.  

Later that afternoon I get a text from LD - he's caught my sniffles and may not make it to the dinner party.  I send off some motherly advice ("get lots of rest! have some dayquil! lots of fluids!") and continue with prep.  A while later he confirms that he will not be attending.  I apologize for infecting him and wish him a good night.

This is where my heart breaks Dear Readers.  

I honestly thought that I had moved past his little lie a few months ago.  When he texted me that he was ill and couldn't make it to dinner, there was not a moment of doubt in my mind when I wished him to get well and rest up.  

Then I went to check my e-mail.  I use iGoogle as a central homepage that shows all of my Google gadgets - my mail, RSS feed, calendar ... and Google Latitude.  While LD was on his business trip, he had shared his Google Latitude with me... I suppose to prove that he was actually in the City he said he was (though you can manually set your location, so it's really not *that* much proof).  As the only person I've got on Latitude, it's the map that shows up on my homepage.  The map that showed that he was about 2km from home, in an area with a number of restaurants and a hotel. 

I am so ashamed that my first thought was doubt.  I KNOW that latitude is not the most accurate... while Latitude CLAIMS that it will pinpoint a person within 300m at the furthest, on his business trip, it showed him in the middle of a body of water. I also have cell phone signal problems around his building, so it would be perfectly reasonable for the location to be off... and yet I still had that moment of doubt.  Despite the logical part of my brain trying to reason with me... the doubt lingered... to the point where I told myself that I would check his Latitude when I woke up in the morning, just to confirm that Latitude just can't pinpoint his condo building.  As my logical brain suspected - at 5:30 this morning LD was still "2km from home".  

I am so saddened by this.  Despite everything we've done to build up our trust, despite all of my efforts to get past this... despite thinking that I HAD gotten past it... all it took was one small suggestion ... not even a very ACCURATE suggestion... and I was all too willing to doubt.  I obviously still have more progress to make in this area...

So there you have it DR... 

tl;dr - Picked LD up at the airport on Friday and de-stressed him; spent a kinky-domestic evening together on Saturday; hate being told how to cook, love spending the night cuddled up to him; infected him; my brain sucks. theend kthxbai