No postings for three days because, simply put, my life was too busy.
My life. I would like to correct myself and say that my life actually belongs to my Mistress, but she’s adamant regarding her feelings toward me being her servant, not her slave.
Is the idea of being a slave purely roleplaying? After several days of ruminating on the concept, I have to agree that it is. Nonetheless, I’ve found that when I get into what I call a “slave mindset,” in which I allow my self image to become what I consider the self image of an obedient, satisfied slave to be, I find myself to become very relaxed, happy with my life and even childlike with a sense of joy and wonder regarding my chores and the happenings around me. The worries and problems of my life tend to flow away, leaving sometimes a gentle satisfaction in simply doing what needs to be done, sometimes a deep sense of pride in my station, and sometimes even (particularly when there are a great many things that need to be juggled at once) a focused excitement regarding how everything can be done as effectively as possible. In contrast, when I’m not in a slave mode, I tend to be overwhelmed mentally, sometimes to the point of breaking down into tears, when things get too chaotic.
Looking back over what I just wrote, it brings to mind the fact that two previous potential Masters highly recommended I study Buddhist philosophy, and I’m getting the idea that being a joyful slave fits in well with Buddhist teachings. Also of note is the childlike feeling of bliss I feel when I’m deepest into my slave mindset. It’s like being in a dream state, and I literally feel as if I’m experiencing a recreational drug of some type. During discussions regarding consensual slavery, I’ve noticed that slaves tend to seek a return to their childhood. Even slaves who despised their formative years and were abused by their parents still, I’ve noticed, tend to seek out Owners who in many ways treat them as their parents did. I’ve yet to meet a truly dedicated consensual slave who desire sex to be a primary aspect of their duties. Most want to serve around the house while their lives are controlled by their Owner, who takes care of them while being quick to discipline them when they make mistakes or get out of line.
My father was distant from me when I was growing up. It was my Mother who controlled my life. When I was young, my Mother would discipline me by pulling my pants down (often in public or in front of relatives) and whipping my bare buttocks with a switch broken off a tree branch. She turned me into a very meek, very obedient, very controlled girl. I tried to rebel a bit in college, but I was never truly able to. Her training was extremely effective, and to this day I remain mentally molded into being a submissive housewife. The real world scares me to a degree, in that I feel overwhelmed if I don’t have somebody controlling my decisions.
I believe I’ve just stumbled upon the difference between a “servant” and a “consensual slave.” A consensual slave wishes to give up control of their life. A consensual slave sees themselves as inherently lesser to some degree than their Owner. Like the way obedient children views themselves in comparison to their parents or to all adults.
Do I want to be a little girl again? Oh, yes, very, very much. So much I cry about it at times. I’d give up everything to return to being 10 years old.
Am I trying to do that by being a slave? Very possibly I am.
Maybe that’s why I’m sometimes great with my children, but often times I don’t know how to handle them or provide for their needs. I have a seven-year-old daughter and a 10-year-old son. I love them so deeply it defies words. My ex has often said, to our mutual consternation, that I’m really like the third child of the house. And I think my ex is pretty accurate. For one reason or another, I guess I’ve never truly grown up in some ways. I’ve never learned to be independent.
Such is life.
It was being with my children that took up most of my time the last two days. I took my son to a gaming convention all day, where he watched cartoons and played with other kids from late morning until bedtime. The next day I was with my daughter, and we put together a horse puzzle and made a wooden biplane and I taught her about aerodynamics (to a degree … she was soon bored) and played in the backyard with her and went out for donuts. They both live with my ex, who concluded that I wasn’t mentally stable (i.e., mature) enough to take care of the children by myself after our divorce last year. I pretty much gave in to all of my ex’s demands during the divorce, so much that my ex got the house and all of its contents “for the sake of the kids.” Before I moved in with Mistress, the children visited me often, but now I live more than a half hour away, and my ex won’t allow the children to visit my new home because she doesn’t like the idea of the kids being near an unknown adult. So when I see my kids now, I see them at my former home.
Pretty much all of my time with them is play time. Going swimming. Trips to the museum. Making crafts. It’s my ex that handles all the serious duties, like picking them up from school or going with them to their psychiatric appointments. My ex prefers it that way. My ex is probably right, because when I’m around the kids, I pretty much become a kid, too.
But I digress. Time for chores. I need to thoroughly clean up the living room, mop the kitchen floor, buy groceries, pick up a hard drive at the computer store, and make dinner.
One last thing. I may be technically a servant. But it’s the idea of being a slave that brings me true peace.
La kajira.
-- schatzie
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