IN WHICH SHE SEES THAT THINGS SOMETIMES JUST GO WRONG

How are we meant to respond as a slave/submissive/babygirl type when we're asked to do something and we know it's the wrong thing to be doing?

I'm not talking about the "I want you to take this gun and shoot that person" scenario that is so often the rhetoric of those who are opposed to (or who don't understand..) the ideas behind TPE.  I'm thinking about a real situation when you have been told to do something that is going to have negative consequences for not only yourself, but for your master and for the relationship between the two of you.

I used to think that I knew the answer to this question - I mean, it was easy... the relationship dynamic is based on trust and surrender on the part of the slave.  This means that even though I might not be able to see the reasoning behind a decision, I have to know that my master has the goal in mind and I have to follow.

I just have to have faith and surrender.

What I didn't really consider is that there might be times when he simply makes a poor decision about how to get to that goal, and as a consequence of that decision things fall apart.

How should I behave when I can see what the result of a decision is going to be, and I can see that its going to be bad?

I think that until now I only knew half of the answer.  Yes - this dynamic is about trust and surrender... but the aspect that I was missing is that it is also about the acceptance of consequences.

So, I have faith and I surrender.

And when things fall apart because I have obeyed his will, which is the good, right and true thing for a slave to do, I will accept the consequences of my obedience.

Sometimes the consequences are hearing the words "good girl."  And sometimes the consequences are that things just fall apart.

If things break, it doesn't necessarily mean that I failed.. sometimes things just break.

IN WHICH SHE DISCUSSES SOME MYTHS ABOUT BEING A BABYGIRL

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IN WHICH SHE TALKS ABOUT REMEMBERING HER PLACE

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IN WHICH SHE IS ALLOWED TO SHOW INTELLIGENCE IN NEW AREAS

I am back from the USA. Back from Connecticut, and back from my visit with A.

It was both wonderful and confusing at the same time. And disappointing. Let me start backwards.

T and I arrived in the USA and straight away started coughing and sneezing with what we thought was just bad colds. However we were aware that having just spent 30-odd hours on public transport and traversing half of the globe, that there was a possibility that it could be the influenza H1N1 strain. So, on the day that I was meant to go and begin my visit I lay coughing and gagging (not in a fun way) on the wrong bed in the wrong state, speaking to him on the phone and trying to explain that I didn’t think I was well enough to visit.

The message that he received was that I didn’t want to visit and was unsure of our relationship after our last in depth conversation about Queer issues and his thoughts on Homosexuality and Lesbianism. It took much convincing to assure him that this wasn’t the case. Although at one point he asked me how I felt about him now that he had told me his thoughts, and I do have to admit that every time I think about it I feel angry with him. Even now.

After about three days of coughing, gagging, and phone calls (again… none of these were of the fun sort), we decided that I was well enough to come and visit. So he came to pick me up at T’s house. T and her mother had gone to visit other members of the family, so this time I was allowed to be alone when he picked me up. It was wonderful. There were long, bone-squeezing hugs and lots of smiling, and yet something was missing. I don’t know if it was because I had been ill and he was being careful, but it felt like that *click* that had been in place the first time we spent time together was missing.

We spent the bulk of time at his house. There was a little bit of gentle play, with him laying next to me and talking me to an orgasm – he did that twice, and it was wonderful, but it still felt like there was a barrier between us. There had been no smooches at all, because I had an awful cough, and perhaps that is what I keep feeling was missing. We watched a great deal of television together, which included snuggling up with him on the sofa. We ate out a couple of times – just visiting diners, which I love (we don’t have them here), but he told me on the last night that he wished we’d been able to go somewhere nice. I wish that as well, because it would have given me a chance to dress up for him.

After he dropped me back at T’s – for her birthday and Halloween, and TH’s visit, I was able to meet him again in the city. We (A, T, TH and I) went to the Guggenheim to see the Kandinsky exhibit. Things were a little awkward at first, TH was in a strange mood the entire time that he was in NY with T and I, but in the end I decided that I was just going to relax and enjoy the day. It was amazing. I finally was able to see some of the artworks that I’ve worshipped for years, and was able to share them with the person that I’ve worshipped for years. There were fun moments where we would be talking about Kandinsky’s work and then turn on the taped exhibition guide to hear her say the same things that I had just pointed out to A. I enjoyed being able to show him that I was intelligent in a new way.

At the end of the day we went to Build-A-Bear, which has become somewhat of a tradition, if you can call something that has happened two out of two occasions a tradition. And then the four of us went out to dinner.

We said good-bye at Grand Central Station, and it felt as though there should have been some sort of melancholy piano soundtrack in the background. I hugged him tightly and he gave me a quick kiss (T and TH decided not to make themselves scarce at this point, and things were feeling awkward again), and then he was off to catch his train. It was hard not to follow him and to catch the Q back to Brooklyn.

I called him to make sure that he got home alright, and he said that it felt strange not having me in his house.

It feels strange not being there.

IN WHICH SHE IS NERVOUS AND PONDERS THE PLURAL FORM OF UTERUS

I'm more than a little nervous about things at the moment.

T and I are going to the US to visit her family for 3 weeks. She saw her mother when she visited us here last year, but other than that it has been 3 years since she has seen her sisters or her wider family, and they are all very close.

While she is going to go and visit her sisters, I am going to go and visit A.

That is why I'm nervous. Terribly nervous.

I have met him in person before. I can't remember whether I have mention this in previous posts, and honestly, seeing as it is almost 5am and I am still awake I really can't be bothered going and looking to see if I have. Bad blogger. No biscuit.

I stayed with him for about 10 days. It was wonderful. And frustrating. It has been a LONG time since I wanted to be fucked that badly. And I didn't get fucked. There was one amazing session of spanking and paddling. There was a lot of cuddling and smooches. There was almost an argument. There was an embarrassingly snarky comment made by me at one stage, which I am ashamed that I made and I totally acknowledge that it was me throwing a bit of a snit because I wanted something that I wasn't getting. Not very submissive, I know.

Anyways, things have changed between us since I saw him last. Not the least of these changes being the plan to come back from the US with a tiny little zygote in at least one of our uteruses. Uterii? What is the plural of 'uterus'?

So, I don't know how things are going to go when I spend time with him. I have asked, and he says mysterious things that fill me with dread and excitement. He says that he has plans for me and makes me imagine being bound and gagged, beaten and fucked.

Honestly, I don't know if I want that. I'm scared of what happens when that appetite is woken up again. I'm comfortable with my chastity and am finally enjoying it. And I know that it will be a hard thing to go back to after being used by him.

IN WHICH SHE THINKS ABOUT SUBMISSION AND SURRENDER

Lately I have found that I bristle at the words 'submissive' and 'submission'. I think the reason they get to me is because I find them totally inadequate to describe the process that I am going through as a slave. 'Surrender' is a beautiful word. It holds the idea of following one's Master so completely that there isn't a thought about following his direction. His will and one's action follow as effortlessly as a breath in and a breath out. The fact that he wills something almost in itself creates one's obedience because you only have to know what he wants for you to obey. 'Submission' holds the implication that one thought about whether or not she should follow a command and that there was some possibility, however small, of it not being followed. It implies that there was a choice on one's part as to whether or not she would obey. It is the breath taken in with the idea that it might never be released.

IN WHICH SHE DISCOVERS HER LAUGH

He speaks to me 

in words and silences 

that take me places 

I have never imagined. 

Places where I am happy 

and carefree.   Places where 

I respond to his words 

without thought and without need.  

Places where there is nothing 

but his will.  

His will and my obedience, 

and my obedience is pleasure.

He teaches me the lessons he wants me to learn and I learn them well.