The Story of O

I’m currently at 36,000 feet and about 600 miles away from Portland as I write this. (edit, I posted it a few days after landing, but have back dated the post) I have been reading the “Story of O”, a rather infamous story from BDSM culture and literature that was written in the 1960’s and tells the tale of “O” a slave and her journey. You can find synopses on the net of this story and what it means.

This trip back home was a mixed bag of emotions, from anger at my mentally ill mother and bigoted father, to a new found respect for my brother and an openness with him that I had not had prior. With the exception of the time when I was in a dress shirt and/or suit for funeral arrangements, I was wearing Sir’s collar. In fact, my brother even asked me about it. Here is where the story I guess got interesting. My brother owned the copy of “The Story of O” and lent it to me to read. He never came out expressly and said why, but he and his wife had seen my collar and said nothing of it, even though my brother read the tag when I was in the washroom.

Throughout the trip I wanted attention and affection…which came out with me hounding Sir with a lot of texts and pictures which in retrospect was not proper of me. Even as I read The Story of O, my knowledge of the Old Guard and the like….I feel like my purpose is to make him happy, content, satisfied and be the caretaker of his health and home. He is a protective bear, and I adore that…I loved when we were together and he would pull me close if we were walking somewhere busy, or when he fawn over me a bit…its intoxicating to me. But at the same time I realize he needs his own space, for his husband, his beloved pets, and for his own relaxation time (something he gets far too little of). I want to help him in those areas but I cannot do much more than I am at this point, but I can reduce the amount of needyness I project to him.

The other thing I spent a lot of time thinking about was a rather Old Guard concept of marking. While in the furry/k9/puppy play sense marking can be an ownership and dominance ritual, there are more public rituals like the collar, the brand, “grooming” issues, and other behaviors which are often more ritualistic and formal but also a constant reminder of ones place. I wear Sir’s collar and his alone. He named me a name that he liked that suited me, and we have talked in depth about him having me get my genitals pierced with him there, directing it all…something that both makes my loins burn and my ears flatten on my head while I blush. I love that. I love the ritual of changing myself to better suit him, or marks that convey dominance, ownership, ect…and of rituals together that we create together that are personal. Even if it is a mode of greeting, a certain protocol, ect. One thing we do is me serving him drinks, something that brings me great joy. Cooking for him is something I’ve been able to do only rarely, but also something I enjoy. I love our power dynamic, I love how he can look at me and I know immediately what that look means. He doesn’t have to cane me, his disapproval or worse…possible disappointment is more pain that I could bear.

The Story of O is a great fantasy novel. Not a life one would want to live everyday, as O is passed around from master to master without a real sense of connection with any of them. Maybe this was a plot point to demonstrate she was an object to be used rather than something with feelings. I didn't care for that part. I couldn't imagine caring so little emotionally for one's master.

Dreams, structure, and the submissive

Last night was difficult for me as I had a series of bad dreams that had a similar theme.

One dream involved me having sex with my ex. In the dream, my ex asked me to slow down when performing oral sex (something I'm skilled at) and my roommate entered the room. My roommate is someone I have been physically attracted for a long time, but also, someone who has made it clear he has no interest in playing with me and never will. In the dream, he puts on a tape for "mood" and I am ignored...eventaully, I have to get up to go work...and my alarm goes off, and I awaken.

The second dream is fuzzier and of the same "cannon". A dream cannon is like a film. A lot of dreams have different logic, different settings, times, places...situations...and its rare for me to stay in the same cannon. Last night my dream placed me in another situation where like the first dream, I was wanted when I was wanted, ignored when I was not, and banished.

This week has been hard on me, as I started therapy (on my own) and my family has been involved in some serious drama regarding the politics of life, healthcare, and respecting ones wishes even when it goes against your religious beliefs. Even in my intake with my therapist, he commented on my strength and asked how I was able to deal with the cards in life I had been dealt. I don't doubt my own strength, but I ignored a lot of it. I accepted so much abuse, so much maltreatment because I preferred poor treatment to being ignored. It's the thing I fear worse than anything....that someone will simply ignore me.

When I was little my evangelical parents would tell me of the rapture and of being "left behind". My father loved those books, and I remember racing home, yelling for my parents...praying that I wasn't abandoned when they were taken up to heaven. As an adult, I find myself wanting to continuously engage with the people I care about...seeking their approval, checking in, wanting to be sure things are okay and doubting my ability to keep them okay based on this fear. I fear people moving on from me, as most of my relationships have ended when my partners kept quiet about their wants and needs changing to newer and more novel things. I also notice changing the words I use to refer to men I care about...Sir becomes Papa, which becomes Daddy in my emotionally weak moments. It's not that Daddy is a bad thing, but when I use it, its a desire to be cared for, protected, held and guided. Even Papa is the same. Sir is a more formal term, but no less affectionate. My interests in age play, AB/DL stuff comes not from a desire to be an infant, but rather...a sort of unconditional love and nurturing that I never received as a boy.

I don't know if Papa knows this, but I know that he knows how much it means to me to be called son, boy, puppy...those terms of endearment. Sometimes I worry that I desire too much for his attention and affection...in effect, I fear pushing him away with neediness. I hope he will tell me if this is the case. In the meantime, I hope therapy gives me new insights into my own shortcomings and how I can overcome them to be better for Him.