We all think of our exes sometimes. Some have left a bigger impact than others but I believe the end of D/s and M/s dynamics generally leave a bigger, longer-lasting mark, even if they weren’t romantic. Sometimes I wonder how Lisa is doing and I think about what Lois might say to me. Now with all this time at home and nowhere to go I’m frustrated. I used to be frustrated if I was out when Lois wanted to play and now that I literally have nowhere to go and all the time in the world to be used, there’s no one to use me. But more so, I wonder why now with Corona she wouldn’t just briefly check up on how I’m doing.
There’s a yearning, isn’t there? A longing for what once was and I’m not sure how humans find their way around that, especially when standing still, like right now. It leaves me wondering how someone who has been so good for me can now be bad, almost. As Shae said to me, it’s not likely about me. Life happens to people and they change.
When a Mistress lets you go, it’s really hard and very, very strange. I was aware of all the rules in my life as part of our dynamic but they become even more apparent when they’re suddenly gone. There is the “yes Mistress,” one for every yes or no question asked which was drilled into me until it became automatic and I’m fairly certain it still is. When Roxy set me that first task, the first thing I automatically wanted to do is say yes Mistress. In fact, when I type an M on my phone the first suggestion that comes up is still Mistress.
We’re nearly coming up to a year now since the end of our dynamic (though we had some brief conversations every now and then for a while after) and there were certain things that I really struggled with coping when it ended. The rules that end don’t just disappear because they had such a significant presence and became so normal. I’m still reminded of them because on the one hand, I want to stick to them as they’re good for me and on the other hand, the results of my good habits remind me. Now that I’m stuck in my room, the place where essentially all our contact took place, I’m especially reminded of the absence of the dynamic and the rules and it’s difficult.
After the end of our dynamic, I would freak out about any incoming message sound or phone call because it reminded me of Lois. Mind you, I had turned the specific sound I only used for her messages off but evidently, that wasn’t enough. I felt a bit scared of being on my laptop and phone for a while. The minute it ended also, I threw my healthy diet out the window and ate a lot of chocolate, which I didn’t actually want to do, and the cleanliness of my room quickly deteriorated.
Other rules she’d given me were to take a picture of the outfit I was wearing that day, wearing an outfit/shoes I was afraid to wear, actively thinking of ways to be useful, never wearing any underwear. All of these made me feel conflicted because they were good for me on the one hand but now bad for me on the other hand because it reminded me of what now no longer is.
Going into one example specifically, I felt conflicted about wearing anything but my pyjamas or hoodies for a while. On the one hand, it makes me feel so much better and confident when I make an effort to look nice and on the other hand, it reminded me of how there was no point in taking that picture. More so, if I dressed up nicely my first thought would be that it would have made her proud and that shouldn’t have been a thing anymore. In fact, I resented that she might have felt proud because it felt like it wasn’t hers to feel anymore. I struggled with that same conflict about wearing heels and there are some pairs that I still don’t wear.
I know the answer or cure is to reclaim my clothes by wearing them. And don’t get me wrong, I’m proud of myself. I’m the one doing these things and I don’t need her to be proud of me to do them. Yet, sometimes, for a fleeting moment, the first thought that comes to mind when doing something on my own is that she would have been proud, the vaginal stapling is one example of that. I can’t help it; it’s so stuck because she trained my mind to think like this until it became automatic and stopped being an active choice. Time, I’m sure, will have this wear off.
This blog isn’t just a reflection or a retelling; I’m reclaiming my story by writing it. While Lois is the reason for the kind of slave I am today, I am that slave and that person. But as that slave I feel like I can’t properly function as one without the rules, the structure, the punishments and that person to please; those things aren’t just things that turn me on. Currently, I hold myself accountable to clean my room, eat healthily, wear nice outfits but it’s all rather one-sided. I don’t need to do these things for another person, but it helps, to have a Mistress. It helps to have that structure.
I wonder if in a way a lifestyle as a slave with rules and rituals are somewhat similar to the structure and comfort people find in spirituality and religion. I don’t think they’re the same and I don’t believe in something bigger than myself (at least, I don’t believe something or someone is looking out for me) but the Food4Thought prompt made me see some resemblance.
I haven’t practised spirituality or religion but I have lived with my mum, her husband and my sister who have. My mum and her husband are part of The White Eagle. It’s a group that practises spirituality rather than religion, though they believe in Jesus. My mum and her husband have a room specifically dedicated to this spiritual group. You’ll find the group’s symbol on the wall and six-pointed stars hanging around. They light candles in this room to say their prayers or perform healing rituals which can last from anywhere between 10 minutes to 2 hours. During this, they wear special robes which represent their status within the group based on different colours. Once a week, they come together with the members of the group for an enlightenment session and sometimes they practise healing rituals. Mum, for example, has been training to be a healer and healers feel the light inside your body through touch, or even by having their hands hover above you.
My sister, on the other hand, is into angel cards, candles, crystal stones, Ayahuasca and Kambo rituals (the former is a ceremony in which people drink ayahuasca which makes you purge for typically 8 hours, which includes vomiting, hallucinations and diarrhoea to release negative emotions and energy and the latter is a traditional ritual that uses the poison of the giant monkey frog to purify the body.) She believes there is a spirit bigger than herself which leads her in the right direction and can help her find healing.
Whether this is true or if they’re taking things too far doesn’t matter. I take slavery quite far and seriously and I’m pretty sure they’d look at me and proclaim I’m crazy. The point is that we all have rituals and rules we live by even if we aren’t a slave or spiritually and religiously involved. The practicalities and beliefs of these things are not the same but perhaps we’re all looking for the same thing, a sense of meaning in our lives. “As long as I can be useful to someone one day I have a purpose” is finding meaning through my identity as a slave; my slave identity is something to hold onto, which I would argue is more tangible than the idea of something bigger out there.
In recent months I concluded that writing a blog alone and running an Onlyfans account wasn’t enough to keep my slave identity alive. Reclaiming can also be done by going out there and becoming involved in the kink community and by perhaps finding new people and opening up to new ideas.
Another reason why the lockdown situation is actively reminding me of Lois is that I had this purely online dynamic for two years. In other words, I could practise it from my room without the need to leave the house. Now that I finally took the step to meet people in real life, it’s a little ironic and incredibly frustrating that I can’t and could in fact have really used the online dynamic. It’s even more ironic because I was about to have an actual in-person play date for the first time ever with a person I’d really like to play with in the first week that we were told to stay at home. Patience is a virtue, they say. Patience is also a bitch.
Check out Food4Thoughts prompt on Spirituality.