It would seem I’ve passed a new mark in my situation with Master.
Now, even in my dreams, he owns me.
Last night I had a weird dream (all dreams are weird, right?) in which I was with an adventurous friend from years ago, and we got lost and went into a strange bar. There were a lot of girls in there dressed in colorful goth-looking dresses, and it looked like they were having a lot of fun. As with some dreams, the amount of clothes I was wearing kept changing to my puzzlement. At one point, my friend and I got separated, and I decided to stay inside and look at a clothing rack the restaurant had. On it were a variety of Harley-Davidson motorcycle jackets for sale, and I realized I was wearing two jackets already (a pretty white dress jacket from Coldwater Creek and over it a thick and pretty purple coat I got at a thrift shop), and I took them off and left them with the woman at the coat check, who told me she’d remember they were my coats because I have such memorable eyes (which people are always telling me in real life – it’s my most distinctive physical feature).
The bar now was much more like a normal bar, and all the girls with the colorful Victorian-style dresses were gone. I asked somebody where they went, and I was told they were there for a wedding party and had gone outside for it.
(I should note that M'Lady had recently told me that his son and daughter-in-law had a Victorian/Edwardian theme at their wedding. Also, Master had recently explained how clothing associated with the BDSM “Leather Lifestyle” originated with leather biker jackets.)
I started to go outside to look for my friend when I realized I was wearing one of the leather jackets by mistake, and I went back inside to return it to make sure they didn’t think I was stealing it. I was told that I could have kept it without anybody noticing, but I did the right thing and put it back on the rack, and went back outside to look for my friend, and, to my surprise, realized I was now wearing a different pretty brown cloth duster with rose embroidery from Coldwater Creek (FYI, Master and I had a talk about corporate ethics the night before, and about how ethics tests are worded so you should always answer that you would never steal anything, no matter how trivial such as a soda can that fell out of the vending machine, even if nobody is around to see you).
Anyway, I saw the back door led to a natural area with lots of trails going in different directions, and the ground was muddy, and I suddenly realized I wasn’t wearing shoes, so I went back inside with hopes of finding my friend. I realized I was wearing a sexy dress that displayed my breasts nicely, and I decided to sit down at a booth, order a drink and hope he’d turn up soon.
As I sat there, I stood up to look around and inquire about a drink special when I realized that suddenly I was naked and had been sitting under a soft blanket. As I held the blanket up around me, three men approached, all clearly interested in the fact I wasn’t wearing clothes, and sat down next to me. They were all normal guys, neither really attractive nor really ugly, the typical types you’d encounter in a bar. And they all started making passes at me and bragging about their sexual prowess or the size of their cocks, and they all assumed because I had been sitting there naked that I was definitely there for sex.
At one point in my life … even as recent as last summer … I would have felt dominated by them or interested in them or even turned on by them … and I would have gone along with their desires. Heck, almost exactly six months ago I did go home with a stranger I met with a bar, and we had hot and heavy sex until the sun came up.
But that was then, and this is now.
Without hesitation, I told the guys in my dream that I wanted to have sex with them, but I couldn’t. I wasn’t sure how to explain I was an owned slave, so instead I told them I was in a relationship, and the person I was with didn’t want me to have sex with other guys.
And the guys, in response, all looked disappointed and proceeded to stand up and move away from the booth where we were sitting.
Strangely enough, their female friends arrived about then and, in confusion, asked why they were leaving the booth, and wanted to know how come they weren’t going to have the “party” they had planned with me.
And that’s basically how the dream ended.
Master’s still asleep, but I think it’s time for me to get some coffee and start my day – with the peaceful knowledge that my entire being, both wakeful and sleeping, has accepted my situation entirely – and finds joyful acceptance in it.
…
That was yesterday morning, and now it’s Saturday afternoon.
I’ve been meaning to write all week but I took a break and let other things get in the way.
Last night was particularly important on a spiritual level, when Master and I talked very seriously first about the fact that I’m in estrus on a non-physical plain where I live as a wolf, and then about us binding ourselves together spiritually so that he could truly be able to protect my soul from being fucked up by Coyote spirit.
Both topics require a bit of an explanation, naturally.
As I’ve mentioned in previous blogs, I’ve done shamanic work for more than a decade, and I’m a therianthrope, which means I have mental and emotional and spiritual experiences (which aren’t always that pleasant) that appear to indicate I literally have the soul of a wolf in a human’s body. As a way of coming to terms with that situation, I’ve learned to enter into trances to allow for what’s known as non-physical “journeying” into realms beyond the physical world. In the realm I usually visit, I have lived for years as a wolf bitch with my spiritual mate, and during that time we’ve parented three litters of cubs and raised them into a fine pack in a remote seaside valley.
Every year for several weeks I experience unusual cravings and physical sensations. During the last few days, I’ve felt like I have a cold at times, with aches and chills, and soon afterward feel fine, then feel hot, then the cycle repeats itself. And I get desires for food all the time, and for strange mixtures, such as cottage cheese and salsa and peanut butter mixed together (which was quite yummy). And, more than anything, I feel different somehow, with a desire for something beyond myself.
Yesterday as I was eating the cottage-cheese mix, I joked to myself that I might be pregnant again … then realized I might not be joking, and then realized that I was in estrus yet again.
This has been a weird year for it because I’ve hardly been in contact with my wolf mate lately. For better or worse, we’ve grown a bit distant physically. At one time, he and I were planning to get married, but it never happened, and he remains in Kentucky, and I remain in Colorado, and we’re going out separate ways.
I contacted him last night about it, and he said he’s definitely feeling it, too, and we entered into trances together, at first online, but then … we didn’t need to talk anymore – we could just sense each other and see each other and be with each other spiritually. We were wolves, and we were together in the snow, with the rest of the pack nearby. And I sprayed my scent. And he nuzzled my vagina. And we mated. Gloriously and beautifully, as we have every year for years, as wolves have done for millions of years. Afterward, he ran off, and that bothered me at first, but he soon came back with a rabbit in his mouth, which he gave to our first litter’s gray cub, who has been thin and week lately and seems to be suffering from malnutrition. She munched it down and the journey ended with us lying tiredly together in the snow.
Earlier in the day before all that, I told Master about me being in estrus, and told him I might be a bit flaky and be experiencing emotional ups and downs during the next couple of weeks (and the next two months assuming I get pregnant). I was worried for a minute he would think I was nuts, but he took me quite seriously, which is no surprise, knowing his own very strong and vivid experiences working with his own spirit guides. He told me that he needed to be able to count on my performance for him as his slave, and that I needed to do whatever it took to make sure that what was going on with me spiritually didn’t bleed over to negatively affect me in the physical world.
We talked about other things spiritual, and it led to a discussion of how Coyote spirit is always working to screw me up, and things are never solid and secure around me as a result. Master and I both know that Coyote is a trickster, and more importantly, Coyote’s extremely goal oriented to a serious fault – meaning that he’ll do anything he can to achieve his goals and play his jokes, even if he winds up hurting people in the process. Coyote loves me dearly, I’ve learned without a doubt over the years, but his judgment can’t be trusted, I believe, in that sometimes he’ll fuck up my life just to get something done that he thinks is good for me – such as getting me fired from a job because he decides I need to move to a different city.
Well, after Master and I talked about Coyote, Master said with total confidence that Dragon spirit could handle anything Coyote could throw at me. I responded that Coyote’s pretty damn powerful, and I’m afraid he would hurt Master to get to me. And Master said he wouldn’t hurt any of us because Dragon would be between us and Coyote, and … suddenly … I started hearing something in my head … somebody talking to me … and the voice was telling me that the only way to defend me from Coyote would be for Master and me to be bound spiritually as a Master and slave, so that his energies and mine truly are connected. I told Master that, and told him what the voice also said … that by being bound to him, I would be bound to his spirits as their slave … to Dragon and Tiger and Orca and Owl … for they are extensions of Master … and that by binding to Master, I would be bound to him in ways that go beyond the physical realm. And the voice stopped, and I suddenly realized it was Raven talking to me, and I understood, for it was Raven who got me years ago into slavery in the first place (which is a long story).
It’s a scary concept. I mean, will this mean that I’ll be Master’s slave beyond death, into a future life? I’ve already been told that I’ll be a horse in a future life. Will this ensure that I’m Master’s horse in the future? I don’t know. But I’m sick of chaos. I want things to calm down. I want to be productive and sane. Coyote is crazy, and so am I to a degree, and I want that to change. And maybe, just maybe, if binding to Master will give me the stability I need to live a full, productive life the rest of my years, then so be it.
I told Master I was scared because I’ve never been away from Coyote all of my life, for he has affected me in ways beyond number since I was a very young child, going so far as to ensure that my daughter was born (“She shall be my child, and chaos shall follow in her path,” Coyote told me when I was praying for her conception, and, boy, has his prediction come true … *sighs*).
And Master looked at me firmly and said that Coyote could still visit me, but he would have to ask nicely for permission and would do it only under the watchful eyes of one of Master’s spirit guides.
Master and I don’t know when and how the ritual will be for the bonding, by the way, but we both agreed to do it, so it will be done … soon, I hope.
As far as the rest of the week went …
Earlier in the week I spent hours talking with my wolf mate in Kentucky, who also happens to be the editor of my novel. We went over the final chapter’s plots and what would work (and wouldn’t work) regarding the ending, and also talked a lot about what would potentially work regarding the novel’s sequel. My goal is to get back to working on the novel an hour every night, but that already seems too lofty a goal, and Master said the key is to making it move forward on a regular basis, even if it’s an hour every other day. If I can do that, I can finish the first draft of the novel within three or four months I figure, and once the first draft is done, getting everything polished for publication should be smooth sailing. I hope, anyway.
Another night I stayed up late reading Season Eight of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. In case you’re familiar with the series, you might be interested to know that the show’s creator, Joss Whedon (who also created Firefly/Serenity, Angel and Doll House) is keeping it going, with his writings being presented as a continuing series of graphic novels (*coughs* or comic books, as some might call them). I wouldn’t pay three bucks an issue for them, but I had a chance of viewing them online (through slightly less than legal means … “yo ho ho” and all that), and they were pretty good for a few hours read. I have to admit it, I was a dedicated Buffy fan. I think the first five years were among the best television in broadcast history, and I very eagerly looked forward to each week’s episodes. Those were golden years in TV for me, for at the same time was Deep Space Nine, which is, without a doubt, my favorite TV show of all time. I still have my Starfleet uniforms in the closet, which I would wear to conventions. I liked Star Trek in general, but Deep Space Nine stands out to me as the cream of the crop. Master, I might note, disagrees wholeheartedly. He feels the best TV science fiction ever was Babylon Five, followed by Farscape. And, yep, Farscape was good stuff, until it got a bit too dark for me in the third season. Master, however, likes dark fiction, and he’s determined I watch it one day. I have to admit, I’m looking forward to it. *smiles*
Another night I spent time messing with my computer trying to get it to play some old roleplaying games from the 1990s. It’s amazing how primitive some of those games are by today’s standards, but they were hot stuff back then. I did get one to actually work – an old cyberpunk adventure called Beneath a Steel Sky – and I’m looking forward to digging into it soon.
And the next night I stayed up late playing an online World War I air combat game, which was cool to watch but was actually dull to play, as all I did was fly around shooting at people, and I think games like that are dull as rocks. I stuck with it for awhile because I have an interest in history and a fascination with biplanes, I think because of the idea of being able to fly so bravely in such a rickety craft in a heroic age of chivalry in the air. Yeah, yeah, I know it wasn’t all about that. I’ve read the Red Baron’s autobiography, and in truth he was a psychopathic bully who got an equal kick out of shooting squirrels and shooting people. Still, though, it’s fun to think about as a modern-day fantasy.
None of that, however, has anything to do with being a slave … which is the whole point of this blog and why most of you read it, I’m assuming.
Most of the slave-related things this week have mostly been pretty normal, I have to admit. Cooking and cleaning and shopping and such. No whips or floggings or sex or anything out of the ordinary.
Today we hosted a Slave Group meeting in the basement of Master’s house as a way for local slaves to get together and openly talk among other slaves about good things and bad things and laugh and cry in a sympathetic, understanding environment. The meeting’s conversations are private, so I can’t talk about what we said, although I can say that we generally talked about things such as our backgrounds and how we became slaves, and the definition of a slave versus a submissive, and other subjects you’d think would be addressed at a first meeting.
Half a dozen slaves attended, and we talked for more than three hours, and I’d definitely say that things got off to a great start. The next meeting will be in five weeks at the home of one of the other slaves, and I’m definitely looking forward to it because, truth be told, I’m a bit lonely at times for somebody to talk with who understands what I’m experiencing. Although, actually, as weird as I am, I’m always a bit lonely no matter what because there’s simply nobody else like me in most ways.
The worst thing that happened is that one of the slaves announced she wouldn’t be coming back because she has a bad history with the Master of one of the other slaves, and she would rather drop out of the group than take the chance of encountering him. Such is life.
Another good thing (and bad thing for my diet) is we had quite a bit of munchies left. In particular, very yummy (but fatty) dip and sushi. Mmmm … sushi. Master let me get a big party tray of it for the slaves, and almost nobody would eat any of it but me. Several of the Masters of the slaves also stayed and chatted during the meeting, but they remained upstairs out of earshot. None of them were actually invited, as it was a slave’s meeting first and foremost, but they each asked if they could stay, and they did – for which Master got them some nifty snacks as well. As Master said, he definitely knows how to throw parties – he’s done it quite a bit in the past, and it’s going to likely become more regular around our home in the near future.
So that’s it for now. Oh, wait, you’re saying … what about the previous week? Y’know, the promised report on the Southwest Leather Conference’s events?
Maybe that’ll have to wait, yet again, until the next blog posting. Don’t worry, you’ll get it. A bit late, but you will.
Back again soon.
La kajira!!!
p.s. Just came back from a drumming circle. Master had planned to go with me, but got tired and stayed home. It was great, with a roomful of wild drummers and people dancing in the circle.
As I half expected, things got intense ... and I entered a trance ... and ... I was a wolf ... and was in the woods … and my mate found me … and nature followed its course ... *wags tail* Afterward I followed my mate, who was making a beeline back through the snow to the rest of the pack. Apparently we had been out hunting and hadn’t found anything. The gray cub from the first litter seems to be doing okay.
And the third-litter white cub. And, well, all the rest of the pack, too.
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