This won’t be a sexy, metaphorically-laden clever post. Folks, this is where the sh*t gets real.
We are approaching 4 months since M’s arrival. For the number people (I happen to be one) That’s 120 days. That’s 2880 hours. That’s one third of a year.
And the veneer has worn off.
Yes, we have farted in front of each other. He has seen me at my best and my worst. He sees the in between. He sees through my bullshit. And occasionally, I feel a tinge of panic…because there’s nowhere for me to hide. He will reveal me
. He has seen me swell with pride as my oldest graduated from high school, with honors. He was there when my 7 year old had his art show. And my 2 year old runs to him first when we both arrive at daycare to pick her up. I am His. He is mine. And the kids are morphing into ours. We are a family. A happy family.
He is here when I fall apart…I lost my job of 6 years due to a major shift in budget. He was here to help pick me up, reassuring me that all would work out. Reminding me that we will be fine.
He is by my side as I watch my father’s health deteriorate. We put him on hospice this week. It was one of the hardest things I’ve had to face. And I am not alone in the journey…he is here. Leading me as my protector.
And in the midst of this chaos, he is my strength. He helps me unpack the years of baggage I carry with me. My burden is lighter because he works me through my issues. (I sometimes feel like he needs to bill me for a copay)
This is the beauty of a strong relationship. This is the epitome of D/s. It’s not the kink. It’s not the scenes. (Those are wonderful and have their purpose.) But this where we go deeper. This is where I give all to my M and he gives me sanctuary. This is where we grow. We have a long way to go, but I will say that we walk the road together. And when I want to run and hide…when I want to forge ahead, or lag behind….he reminds me of who I am.
I am HIS… I belong to Him, and He’s got this.
(Quotes from Pinterest)
So a couple of posts back I wrote about the connection with the surname, “Gray/Grey” and the connotation behind the characters. Seems I overlooked one very important character.
Dorian Gray, the OG (Original Gray).
How could I forget the infamous hedonist who sold his soul to keep his beauty and youth?
It was the only novel written by Oscar Wilde and it was not well -received in Victorian London. With its themes of hedonism and homoeroticism, the criticisms of the novel were harsh and dismissive. It caused quite a scandal in those times. (I wonder how it would fare today. I wonder if it would be displayed near the impulse items at Target, just like the new Grey book. Hmmmm….)
Here’s an interesting fact. The book, The Picture of Dorian Gray, was actually based on a real character, a “friend” of Oscar Wilde’s named, John Gray. And Wilde only changed the first name…not protecting the identity of the not-so-innocent, Gray. Being an avid researcher, I found the truth behind this tale is actually stranger than fiction. I never saw this coming.
Here’s a synopsis/comparison of the two Grays:
Dorian was described as beautiful and breathtaking. John was described as an “Adonis” of a man.
Dorian was wealthy and traveled in high social circles. John was of the middle-class, in south-east London.
Both characters led a decadent lifestyle, seeking pleasure with full abandon.
Dorian Gray ultimately kills himself by stabbing his decaying portrait, which in turn becomes him in the flesh and he dies.
For a brief time, John Gray enjoys the infamy of his doppleganger, Dorian, and it is reported that he actually began signing his name, Dorian. He then repents, leaving his Decadent Movement affiliations behind in London, goes to Rome and eventually is ordained as a priest.
Yes, this is how the story…the true story…goes. In summary….one of Oscar Wilde’s lovers is so handsome that he writes about him and his hedonistic lifestyle in a novel, not changing the last name. Said lover enjoys the infamy and then has a complete about-face, and repents. But he is not satisfied to merely repent from his days of debauchery…Instead he packs up, moves to Rome and spends years becoming a priest.
To tie things up (no bondage reference intended) it seems that the real John Gray, was aptly named. He embraced his darkness for part of his life and then turned towards the light. Making him, his life…its own shade of gray.
And ladies and gentlemen, that’s why he’s the real OG.
Lately, I guess I have been in a bubble. With so much fun going on at home, I haven’t really kept up with current events, or even local news.
So I just missed this one…
While shopping at Target yesterday (honestly readers, you would think I live there) I noticed a large display of books near the check-out. It was the new E L James’ book, “Grey”. It was brazenly on display, right where they place the “impulse items”. I snickered to myself and thought, how appropriate. Next to the guilty pleasures of candy bars, expensive Chapstick and individual Frappucino bottles, lurked the latest tome on the man himself, Christian Grey.
So this is a book written exclusively from Christian’s perspective. In his words. A work to further explore his sadistic mind. His quirky ways. His brooding intensity. I pondered purchasing it. But instead, I impulsively picked up the EOS Chapstick and a Frappucino, and made my way out of the store.
Driving away, I started thinking about the name “Grey”. I started thinking about the connotation behind it. I began to reflect on other movies who had a brooding leading man with the same surname. And it was distracting, so I pulled over, reapplied my Chapstick and finished up the Mocha.
One of my favorite independent films is 2002’s Secretary. Maggie Gyllenhaal played the role perfectly and the movie jump-started her career. And then there was James Spader….whew. His character was none other than, Mr. E. Edward Grey, an OCD attorney who plowed through secretaries faster than a Kardashian changes shoes. To me, he is who I think of when I hear the title, “Mr. Grey”. Since he was her boss, she always called him Mr. Grey, especially when he fashioned his angry red Sharpie to her work and bent her over his desk. Love that movie. It was so quirky and bizarre, but nonetheless, brilliant. And a happy ending.
If you take it back a bit further, you will find the character of John Gray, from 1986’s Nine 1/2 weeks. Back then, Mickey Rourke was the bad boy the good girls loved. And boy was he bad in the movie. Dark and mysteriously charming he seduced Kim Basinger and made her a wanton wreck of a woman in the end. A not so happy ending…and a terrible sequel, too.
And of course, there is the now infamous, Christian Grey. The ultra-successful billionaire who wears his jeans off his hips, likes his women submissive, his dungeons red and his ropes tight.
All of these similarly surnamed characters made me think…what is it about the name “Grey/Gray” that aligns with the aura of dominant mystique? The word literally means, the “color intermediately between black and white” (no surprise there) So is it because all of these characters embrace both the light and dark sides of their psyche? Is it because they are the balance of both good and bad? They have in some way mastered the place in the middle where those lines are skewed? Possibly? Thoughts?
But grey/gray also means “dull and nondescript without interest or character” and I wonder if that definition is a direct reference to the new book? HA! Just kidding!
Don’t fool yourself…I am sure I will pick it up on my next venture to Target…after all this pensive thought I need to go back, I am almost out of Chapstick.
Maestro and I took a little sojourn yesterday. White water rafting through some tumultuous “rapids”. It was another of our spontaneous trips. No planning or notice. No time to pack. No need for anything.
We never even left the bed.
As M entered my raft, it was obvious that he was to be my guide for the evening. He was adept at navigating the rough waters ahead. He was in total control. He led me into the river, maneuvering towards the first set of rapids. The wetness was all around and I could tell the waves were increasing in intensity. I decided to assist my guide by grabbing his oar and paddling toward the first part of our expedition. He was appreciative of my attention to detail, showing me how best to steer.
The waves lapped over the raft again and again. The intensity continued to build and his skilled maneuvers took me straight into another set of rapids. These were even more intense and I found myself soaked. The rush was incredible and he could see that I was ready for more. He navigated the raft with sharp expertise, changing direction to yet another set of rapids. These were so fierce…so consuming that we both ended up drenched.
We never capsized. M kept the raft afloat and each set of rapids proved more powerful than the ones before. I was eager to go farther each time. I wanted more, and the way he maneuvered the raft in perfect direction, gave me the ride of my life.
At the end of our lengthy expedition I was parched and only he could quench my thirst. After drinking my fill, he guided me out of the river and we basked on the shore…both of us spent and energized at the same time. Quietly lying there, recollecting the journey we had taken.
As I adjusted my pillow and rolled over to spoon into his form, I smiled to myself.
Wonder where our next trip will be?
Each and every day brings new experiences for me as I fall deeper and deeper in love with M. I never thought I could really get what I wanted. I was always prepared to give something up to get something else. I no longer have to do that. He is a complete person, a man in every sense of the word…who fulfills what I need and want . And each day that passes teaches me something more. More about him. More about our dynamic. More about being a parent. More about being HIS. He tests me on every level, because he knows I am capable of handling it.
Every day I am stretched (sometimes literally) or metaphorically speaking.
And each day I am thankful to have found my One.
Yes! Finally! Spring has arrived in my town. The kids are back in school. The Masters’ patrons have all returned home and the thick yellow pollen has began to subside. The weather is warm and the feel in the house is warmer from the temperature outside and also because M is here permanently. We are blending into a very happy and contented family.
I realized today, that it’s time to open the windows.
Not literally, but as we progress…as our bond deepens, I am beginning to understand that it’s time for me to fully reveal myself. Not that I have been holding back, but there are things I need to release…M already knows this, but I recently had one of my epiphanies that enlightened me.
I enjoy the dense anticipation leading up to a well-orchestrated scene. I love the planning. I love the preparation. I love how I envision the scenario. I love the rush of it all. And equally, I love Maestro’s spontaneity. When I least expect it. When I am not prepared, he brings an afternoon filled with carnal pleasure that makes me a blubbering mess.
So I will get a little personal here, but I am one of those lucky gals who is able to orgasm easily and frequently. I find that each time I go there, I lose myself in the moment and shift into a state of hedonistic debauchery. Maestro knows every inch of my body and how to make me writhe and shake with delight in a mere matter of minutes. Today, he took me to a place I’d never ventured before. It was like subspace, but far more primal. I found myself glazed over, breathing like a wild animal, staring deeply into his eyes. I was so overcome by the beast within me, that I was no longer my civilized self. And at that moment, in it’s intensity, I began to weep.
With Maestro, I find that I do cry from our more consuming exchanges together. It usually happens after I venture into subspace, and it’s a beautiful release.
Today was different.
Today, the tears felt more intentional. They were a layer I was shedding, like an animal sheds its winter coat in the warmth of spring. It was a place of pure vulnerability. I felt it. He felt it. And when I tried to retreat and nuzzle into his chest, he held my face and said, “No. Don’t hide. Look at me.”
I tried to look away, but he held my face with a tender firmness that demanded my attention. So we stared into each others eyes. The human and the wild animal, sharing an unspoken trust. Sharing a new level of our life together. And the tears…they fell…one by one…neither of us trying to wipe them away. Both of us so focused on each other that it was a moment that I will never forget. The feeling, like a hunter capturing his prey. His prey could have tried to escape, but chose to stay…in the moment. Chose to let him have her.
I realized once the beast within retreated and I fell back into my civilized self, that I had just opened my windows. My soul was aching to come out. I knew that in that moment, I felt and revealed a part of my soul that had been hibernating for far too long. The winter of my life is officially over. Spring is here.
And my windows are open.
Recently I have been on a musical mission. Finding songs from my past that resonate with me now. And I noticed a trend during my search. Many of the songs I sought, had been “remastered”.
What an interesting word…Remastered.
In music, remastered means the original recording of a song has been digitally enhanced. Most of the songs on my list that have been remastered, sound clearer, and there is a greater distinction in tone. There is an overall better sound quality…with no static. It is still the same song, not a cover, but rather better version of the original.
What an interesting concept. ReMastered.
Taking a moment to apply the concept to myself, I find that I have indeed, been ReMastered. I am still the same “song” but the static is gone. I am clearer. I am able to distinguish between the many tones in my sound. It is all because I am enhanced. Better.
Leave it to the Maestro to put my song back in tune, making it better than the original.
Living the M/s dynamic 24/7 makes me a better person. My focus is steady, my resolve relentless. My one and only objective is to do what is pleasing to M. And many of you reading this may think…yeah, that’s nice, but what about your job, your kids, your life? And I hear you…months ago, I would not have understood the profound effect living in a power-exchange relationship would have on how I function. But this “ReMastering” makes me better in every way.
If I focus on what is pleasing to my Maestro, then I have no other worries.
It makes him happy if I wake up early and arrive to work early. He finds my punctuality, pleasing.
It makes him happy when I keep the kids on a routine (and he helps tremendously with this). He finds this structure pleasing.
It makes him happy that I take a minute in the morning to fix his coffee and bring it to him, without being asked. He finds my service to him, pleasing.
It makes him happy when I openly beg him for what I want, without limit or reservation. He finds my absolute surrender to him, pleasing.
It makes him happy when I kneel before him, as he reads or watches television, resting my head on his knee. He finds my reverence to him, pleasing.
I feel complete and utter peace in doing what pleases him. Everything is easier for me. I don’t become as stressed when the kids are out of control, because I have his support and his strength. Bad day at work? No problem…I can give it all to him and from his vantage point as my Master, he helps me find the opportunities hidden from my sight. His ownership protects me from many of the burdens I’ve faced alone for most of my life.
If you stop and think about it…it’s really a beautiful trade. His ownership and my surrender. Each of us giving the other what they want most out of life. I find it very spiritual and it reaffirms this journey of mine. This journey that has shifted into something far deeper than I ever thought possible. It’s much like a godly relationship. Giving all to God…the good and the bad, handing over all burdens, giving praise and glory. Allowing oneself to surrender, to be led, to be protected. For me, my relationship with Maestro, within this M/s dynamic, is a direct manifestation of how I want my relationship with God to be. I want to do what is pleasing to Him, knowing that this is my one directive. Living in a way that is pleasing to both my Maestro and my Maker. Leaving my troubles and burdens with those who take on the responsibility in exchange for my faith, devotion and surrender.
It is perfect in its simplicity.
And I have to say…each day with Maestro is perfect simply because he is here. I guess you could say that I have everything I want.
You say you’ll give me
Eyes in a moon of blindness
A river in a time of dryness
A harbor in the tempest