In my last post I wrote a brief summary of my life before Sanna and now I am going to go into this part of my life. More closely three years ago. I met Sanna briefly on a Swedish website, a few friends of mine hung out at this particular site and I used it to write diary’s and other ramblings. Sanna was one of my most avid readers. She spoke to me about her problems at home with her mother and father, as well as the growing gap that seemed to be opening up with her sister. I gave her my views and given that she is nearly seven years younger than myself, I figured a lot had to do with her own bodily chemistry and also her young age at the time.
I realised very early that Sanna had a thing for me, she found me strange, odd and mysterious. I have been told I have these qualities in abundance. Personally though, i can’t really see it.
I discovered too that she had a boyfriend, which like me she had also met online and had met I think once. Though don’t quote me on that. She explained her relationship was “open” and she didn’t like being tied down. Ironically she had strong fantasies about torture and bondage – go figure. I didn’t want anything to really develop between me and Sanna, I told her as much but she said that I was being unfair and taking her age too much to heart and not her mental age into account. So, I made her a deal, I would give it some time and see if she interested me.
It might seem cruel and it probably was. But i had just come from bad relationships and worse judgements I wanted to make sure I knew what I was getting into. Also, I was worried she would be too childish for my tastes.
Over time I learned quite a lot about Sanna and she in turn probably learned some about me, though I’m rather sure she’s forgotten most of it by now. I’ll explain what I mean by that later. I learned about the family dynamic involved in Sanna’s life and it was not a good one. Why is it the broken ones that are drawn to me?
Three months had soon rolled by and I decided to give it a try with Sanna. We spoke over the phone for hours at a time, I should know, I paid the phone bill. We spent a great deal of time discussing her life and very much of sexual experiences. I quickly learned that Sanna had a tendency to lie to herself quite extensively. I also noticed that no one else around her seemed willing to call her on it. So I did. Oddly this only made Sanna more into me. She broke with her “boyfriend” and focused all her attention on me.
It would be a full year of phone calls, arguments, phone sex and ideas, wants and desires discussed before we would actually meet.
The summer we were to meet, her father had a heart attack and died. Sanna was naturally devastated and we spoke at length about it. But I could do little else because of the distance between us. Her trip was postponed almost a month, but she did finally come down and we met, right along with her sister and mother. We hugged and hung out for a while, her mother weighing me and making sure I wasn’t and I quote “a homicidal, rapist, gay person.” I’m not sure how all those fit together, but I’ve never understood Sanna’s mother, so yeah.
Sanna stayed with me for two weeks, living in my apartment with me and sleeping next to me. And against my better judgement and everything I had promised myself and her, we had sex the first night. Now as some of you no doubt have worked out Sanna was 16 at the time and before you start screaming, in Sweden it is legal to give consent for sexual activity at age 15. It’s been that way for some time, and its part of the culture. No one, including her mother, ever batted an eye at it.
Sanna went back home and we missed one another like crazy; she even stole one of my shirts. Granted I gave it to her, but I still looked for it later though.
Sometime later a few months we had a really big row, I was feeling leaps better than I had in a long time and we knew it might be a whole year, possibly more before we would see one another again. We broke it off. I met another girl for a brief period and then one day Sanna came down to visit, just as a friend, separate bedrooms and everything.
She stayed for about two weeks before returning to her schooling and to her life. It wouldn’t last long however.
I got sick, not a little sick. A lot sick. Spewing blood, high fevers, cold downs, you name it, it was probably attached to me. Sanna, worried about me and that I was alone – cut school and rushed to my side. Something I told her wasn’t necessary; she didn’t listen to me though. I will say it was a lot easier with her there. She had only planned on staying for a week, however the school informed her mother – why is a good question – considering her mother has never cared about it ever.
Her mother called social services which did absolutely nothing. Sanna was 17 by this time and according to Swedish law, by age 16 a kid can themselves decide where to live but the parents are still required to pay for their living arrangements. It doesn’t always work out that way, but its still law.
Sanna, to spite her mother decided to stay a whole month. It wasn’t really going to happen I think, if her mother hadn’t taken the bait and called services and school and police to get her back. None could do anything about it however. Sanna feeling betrayed by her school quit. Obviously there is more to this story, but I’m not telling.
So Sanna ended up staying with me all the way to Christmas and during new years we became an item once more. We hadn’t been an item during her spat with her mother prior to this. Sanna stayed a lot longer, all the way to summer in fact and started school in my district. She basically moved in with me.
During this time she said something to me which confused me greatly. She asked that I “take her choices away” I didn’t know what she meant and so we talked about it. I was very much against the whole idea of slavery from the beginning. I didn’t like the idea of subjugating another’s free-will. I didn’t really want more responsibility in my life; I had enough with my own.
Sanna refused to give in however. We spent many nights talking about it, discussing ways to go about it and she told me what she knew about it. We started right around that time with bondage, very low tech, and very vanilla. Tie her up, spank spank, you like that, yes giggle, nipple twist, slap, drip drip, fuck fuck... the whole deal.
Over months Sanna brought me around to try it out, to give D/s a chance. She actually made me aware of how in charge of our relationship I already was, how much I controlled her coming and goings already. I was in her words a natural born master – I just didn’t know it.
I found that way of thinking about it somewhat bothering at first. Could I have a need so strong in me that I wasn’t even aware of it because I subconsciously acted upon it? It’s the sort of question that’s right up there with “could God make a stone so big that..yadda yadda yadda.” I pondered that a lot; I’m still pondering it today as a matter of fact. First of I had to know if i was in fact acting out this need, and if indeed it was a need and not simply automatics.
My father was very dominating throughout my life and the only way to rebel against him was to dominate him right back, which i did quite successfully. Could this “Master deal” have spawned out of my rebelling youth and simply never gotten curtailed? I have no way of knowing. I have never felt as though I had a need to dominate others, I don’t like being in the spotlight, I have never had dreams of being famous. I like standing in the background, I like not being seen. That doesn’t sound particularly “Master-y”.
But then I do want recognition for the things I do, I demand it many times in fact. I get angry and hurt when Sanna doesn’t notice things I have done. I have always centred on trying to make the women I’m with happy, with varying degrees of performance yes. I just don’t think of myself as a Master. It doesn’t feel right in my estimation. It feels as though something or someone else is intruding on my life when I think about it. As though now I have guidelines and behaviour I must live up to, and I just don’t want to.
The Master part of my life had always been quiet, if it was there at all. I was never forceful with friends, nor did I dominate them. I wasn’t the leader of some small gang I was a co-follower. Because of the larger part of my friends were women, I didn’t learn the hierarchy of men. I learned the co operational way in which women hang out with one another. There isn’t really a leader in those senses. Not of the entire group, there can be a girl who is followed willingly by one or two others and is perhaps the “leader” of that small group. But mostly the girls tended to co-rule amongst each other and co-exist. Often splitting up entirely when what-ever girl-talk, or shopping trip was over.
Perhaps that’s why I don’t like the Master side of Slavery? Nor do I enjoy the idea of “breaking” someone into slavery.
I tend to go through life far more as an individual or co-operator than I do as a dominant. I always saw the domination of others as wrong. It has connotations of rape, bullying and general unfriendliness to me. Perhaps it’s all my time around “free” women, but the idea of thinking about myself as a Dominant or Master, repulses me somewhat.
Perhaps it had something to do with Seth as well. Reading Seth Speaks and the other following books more than likely changed my view of the world. It certainly changed my view of myself. The idea that there is no such thing as a victim and that therefore I am not one, took some time for me to swallow. Not that i didn’t try, mind you.
Perhaps Seth was right, perhaps my own nervousness around my peers, my non-understanding of how their groups worked or that I couldn’t really relate to other boys made me view what they said to me as bullying when it wasn’t actually meant that way, and perhaps my awkward glances and my way of studying them might have come of as a warning sign that I could be gay... well I’ll never really know, but it is possible. Regardless, I have never been a leader of any group. I have never stood in the centre of anything really. There have been moments, naturally, where my mysterious nature has stood out as interesting and I’ve been asked questions from all sides about things. Still I wasn’t the leader so much as the questioned on those occasions.
I am not among those who hurt others without knowing it, I am not among those that miss what’s really going on in a social situation. Not anymore. As you’ve read however, I did have a very rocky social past. I had to compensate for my lack of understanding by systemizing that which I saw.
Sort of like Jane Goodall (sp?) and her monkeys. Or what’s his name and the wolves. I explored a kingdom of animals unfamiliar to me. These human beings exhibited strange social rituals and greetings I had less than stellar understanding of. Their behaviour in packs in particular seemed foreign, if not alien to me – especially the male of the species have very strange, almost courtship-like behaviour amongst other males. It’s almost as though the human-male is trying to impress other males more so than he tries to impress the human-female – yet all the while insisting to himself that it is indeed for the female’s benefit. A very strange behaviour indeed, given that most other animals tend to seek out sexual partners or love interest one-on-one and are often at odds with other males, the human male tends to do this with other males present however – as though he is in need of moral support to approach an attractive female – he needs, as he refers to it, a “wingman” which always seemed strange to me as these animals don’t have any wings. But that’s the male human’s rational for you, bless their strange little creature hearts.
What interested me more and what is much easier to follow in the human animals than other creatures is how they seem to behave about emotions and how seriously they take them. This is of course helped by common language and the enormous amount of facial muscles each human utilizes routinely.
The male of the species is very explosive with his emotional nature, often starring and huffing right before he utterly erupts often loosing his sensibility, if it was indeed ever present, at the very apex of emotional disagreement. The male otherwise seems reserved about his own emotions or indeed confused about them, you often find younger males posturing about for absolutely no discernable reason other than what is happening emotionally within their minds. Older males tend to have either a fixed posturing in their behaviour, obviously from years of doing so as a younger man, and seemingly being very distrustful as much of his own emotionality but far more so of others. Or, he is somewhat more subdued, somewhat more intimate with his own emotionality and hesitant in his co-existence with other males, wishing he were more like them while at the same time fearing his own anger.
The female human tends to be very much in opposition to this emotionality, though theirs is just as explosive. However, where male behaviour and facial expression clearly shows the level of annoyance or emotionality, the female tends to attempt to hide this behind some sort of “social mask”, giving false readings to her environment and then suddenly erupting – usually about the fact that the environment didn’t understand her, despite the erroneous information she herself was in fact giving them. It is a sort of mouse and cat play that the women seem intent on pursuing much more so than the men do.
In her relaxed state, the female is far more sensible and understanding towards both herself and others than the male tends to be. She has no need of posturing; she instead applies make-up as though, like a bird, to highlight her feathers – thus no posturing is required, since it is clear on her face that she is showing interest. The female instead prunes herself and lavishes in clothing, slowly flaunting herself to others and often enhancing her breasts and buttocks – yet the double nature of the female emotionality is present even here, as she herself has applied this “feathering” she is also angry with males when they comment on this to her.
It is a strange dance of duplicity that the female engages in, almost as though to try and prune away those who aren’t attentive, intelligent or clever enough to follow her ritual dance of – “come try and conquer me”.
When the human animal is alone and without their pack-mates their behaviour changes quite dramatically, yet their emotionality tends to stay within the same confines of their own response to it.
Women alone out walking tend to walk very quickly. Nearly sprinting down the street, as though a gazelle on the plains of Africa, attempting to keep fast pace past the non-existent lions in the bushes, that her emotions swear, must be present in the next high grass or round a corner. A female waiting alone for someone, tends to have her coat firmly buttoned, and either sitting in her car waiting, or standing directly under a street lamp. One would think that the female being weary of strange men and fearing rape, might hide in shadow, but the female tendency is instead to make herself seen as much as possible – as though sure others are watching her and would know if someone simply grabbed her. This is the female’s co-operational social behaviour showing itself in this way, expecting others to help her, to feel with her plight. And many women are said to watch out for other women in this way, even though they don’t know them.
The female human’s duplicity extends even unto herself. In her emotionality, which she doesn’t completely trust but swears can’t do without; she doesn’t want her feelings to be unnoticed but would like her own reactions to those emotions to remain a mystery to everyone else.
One thing in particular for men to remember is that women are not in fact discussing their emotions. Many women are actually weary, even afraid, of their own emotional nature. They instead, along with other women, placate their emotionality by mentioning them, sort of like talking about your child but not to him directly – or in fact about him that much either, but rather what he does. Females speak about what their emotions do to them, not so much about trying to understand the emotions themselves or learning how to live with them, but how to get around them. How to best get their way, without fully getting their way of course, because that would be domineering and un lady like and they want to give the thing they desire a chance to come to them first.
So it’s really no wonder that I find the human animal so confusing, and as you can no doubt tell I find the male human the most confusing of all because I can to a degree follow the duplicitous nature of the female more easily. Her emotionality at least in part, has a logical reference point – whilst the male’s seems to come and go irrationally and most infrequently without any real point as to why.
As you can see I very rarely refer to myself as human and rather don’t see myself as part of the “human spectrum” as I call it. I’m somewhere on the side lines, possibly part of a genetic disposition toward trench coats, open discussion and logic that was supposed to be a next step in evolution but simply didn’t pan out.
You might be wondering what this all has to do with D/s, well I’ll tell you. It has to do with more or less everything, because it has to do with me and it was my D/s relationship I was explaining, not so much A relationship.
My part in the equation of mine and Sanna’s continuing journey through life, is the role of a Master. Yet as you can clearly tell from this blog, I don’t like that title, I don’t even see myself as particularly male, don’t let that confuse you however into thinking that I view myself as female. As I said earlier I’m not part of that spectrum.
Instead, if you must, you can refer to me as Sanna’s owner, though it really doesn’t matter either way. Sanna prefers to see herself as property or Pet. Pet being her ultimate preference, since she many times wishes she could purr or waggle her tail.
To continue on, Sanna and I had quite the stormy affair for a while, granted like everyone it was quiet in parts. However a nasty ritualistic behaviour was becoming apparent in Sanna that I didn’t care for.
To understand this fully you have to know a few things about my dear pet. Sanna is one of those people who once she has an idea, doesn’t really sit down and think it through. Rather, she tries to assimilate everything that everyone else knows and then use all the different ways of going about it, simultaneously. Which as you can guess is not so little stress inducing. Worse is however that she doesn’t actually picture herself as part of what she is doing, but rather expects a typical behaviour from herself that would mirror other people’s thoughts and views on the subject.
Yes, that’s right. Sanna doesn’t account for herself in anyway when she begins a project about anything. She instead thinks that her experience should mirror several other people’s experience all at once. You can see the problem.
What only exasperates the difficulties is that when you confront the little snippet about her actions, she defends herself by calling on things she has read other people have experienced as though they were facts in her own life. Or she responds with inane childishness and mood swings that make a five year old seem quite reasonable. And naturally everything I say is a personal insult simply because she isn’t getting her way. Yes, I do frequently get headaches over that, and I thank you for your sympathy.
Now clearly this is rather annoying, but what get to me personally and what worries me frequently, is Sanna’s little icing on the cake. She absolutely and unequivocally must be right, wrongness is just too wrong, and she can’t because that wouldn’t be right. It pains me that she can’t let go of this inability. That she feels so strongly for being right, as opposed to doing what will actually work for her. It takes most of her time to just realize what she’s doing only to later discover she could have done it that way, months ago, had she just listened to me.
So while the D/s thing is more Sanna’s brain child than mine, I still feel an odd sense of wanting to help her with it, protect her sensibility and not let her get so caught up so she forgets her own place in our relationship which is guaranteed to happen unless I intervene.
In fact in the beginning, Sanna had a tendency to view me according to who she thought or expected me to be, yet I didn’t live up to her unexplained or unvoiced expectations. How could I? It had nothing to do with me. The trouble was Sanna excluded the both of us from her own internet wanderings, and information. She forgot herself, and me in the process, expecting herself to behave like “slave” and me like “Master”. It was of course impossible to live up to that kind of fantasized delusion.
I tried many ways o get her out of it, tried many times to get her to understand what she was doing. It took me saying that it was best we didn’t have anything with Master/slave things to do, for her to wake up enough to listen to me. It has since taken her well over a year and a half to come to grips with that it isn’t what others experience that matter, but how she herself experiences our relationship - a relationship she has with me, and not some imagined caricature.
Thankfully, Sanna has to a larger extent come to grips with letting things go now, she is in fact improving on just letting the relationship be what it is and grow into what it will be in its and our own time. I found it quite surreal and confusing that for someone who confesses herself to be so submissive and wants me to “take her choices” as she so aptly puts it, she has a real problem actually leaving me in charge, and seems to want to plan out everything in advance, by months and sometimes years ahead of anything even remotely close to what she thinks is coming.
It’s very strange to me this way she has of sensing danger that isn’t there, believing she is doing things she’s not doing or saying things she hasn’t actually said. She also believes or fears that I will do things, I have never actually done. In all her time with me, she has seen and knows very well that I do not get angry and loud with her – except in rare cases when she is being obnoxiously insistent. I have never mistreated her, never thrown her out of the house, and never been so at loss with her that I would not take care of her even in her darkest moods. I am always there. Yet she still believes it more than possible I won’t be, or that those things will happen. Even though she has enormous proof to the contrary, she still trusts that neurotic female emotionality of hers far more than she does my actions – even though her emotions have led her astray all her life, and I never have.
She also frequently gets annoyed with me because I’m not annoyed with her, or because she doesn’t have a reason to, but wants to be. This is the part I cannot understand, try as I might.
Why would you want to be annoyed with someone you love, shouldn’t it be the other way around? Shouldn’t she be happy that I’m not angry with her? It’s all very confusing to me. It’s a lot like this strange event that seems to happen with human animals. This over-drag, as I call it, of their emotions from one subject to another.
This ability they have to blame another for what someone else had done. The ability to shift blame, to want to find blame - this righteous overbearing sense they have that they need to be right and someone else has to be wrong, and when they can’t make the person who is wrong see that they are wrong, they become offended and lash out at someone who wasn’t even present and has no idea why they are being targeted.
I have no understanding of this. It is a physical and mental impossibility for me to do this, I cannot be mad at person A for what person B did to me, does not compute, error in the matrix, do not pass go. My emotionality doesn’t function this way, it never has and hopefully it never will. When I am angry with one person, that anger does not spill over onto others, my mood around others is not tainted by that situation. It cannot be, they are not the same situation, nor the same person, they are wildly different, there is nothing alike to carry over onto. Which is why, the human way of shifting blame and expecting it to happen to everyone, puzzles me so greatly.
It almost seems as though the Human animal’s emotionality is experienced as being the same in each new situation, and not connected solely with each individual situation. As though they carry that emotionality, like a burden onto the next instead of shifting emotionally as the scene does. It’s very troubling to me that it would be this way for them and sad. After all, my emotions change from room to room that I am in. I do not retain the emotionality connected to a specific situation into another. That would be a terribly negative and over-clouded existence. I do not think I could handle living within such a confined space of emotionality, with so little clarity, it would be absolutely dreadful.
But getting back on point..
Sanna takes slavery very seriously, in ways I do not. I wish the slavery to grow naturally as part of our lives and way of life. She wishes to mold it, or infuse it. I do not understand this view point. Why attach something unnaturally when it can be creatively co-created between us naturally?
Shrug.
The slavery and its connotations are not all that important to me. Sanna is important to me, and our life together is important – that we be happy. I wish this was enough for her, that she didn’t need to directly manipulate it like she does, or at least tries to do – she usually fails quite predictably.
But to Sanna, Slavery is a very big and large affair, she dreams and plans and talks about it in endless repetition. Her dreams seem also to involve other people she doesn’t even know whom she speaks with about Slavery. Lili, Popi and Tanos from TSR seem to frequent in her dreams quite a lot as interpreters of her desires for slavery. They give her advice apparently and she reads their blogs, usually aloud to me. I simply nod and go along with it, paying attention to her to the degree that she doesn’t feel resentful, but not really storing the information. I think it’s nice she has found something, or someone to connect with. I suppose in a lot of ways Lili is Sanna’s version of what Seth was for me.
Though in some sense it is also different, for where I found Seth to be a likable fellow of rather sharp wit and someone who did indeed understand what I had come to understand. To Sanna, Lili is probably more someone she admires, though someone she cannot relate to. She more than likely feels Lili to be “higher” on the slavery food chain than she herself is, whilst I saw Seth as more of an equal.
Some might say that Sanna has an unhealthy level of interest in the other regulars on TSR, I do not think so. The reasons are many. Mainly that I know Sanna and I know she means well, she just gets ahead of herself. She likes these people and respect them greatly, she also more than likely wishes she was their friend.
I heard that Sanna and another submissive recently, or not so recently, proclaimed themselves Tanos’s fangirls or some such. I remember commenting to Sanna when she told me about it, that it would have been more correct to State that she was actually a Lili fangirl more so than Tanos’s. I don’t really think she understood what I meant by it, but I still think there would have been more truth in that statement.
As for myself, I continue to try and live happily, to simply be as I am and have great love for Sanna always with me. As for Slavery, I think, with time Sanna will come to her senses and understand that it is easier to simply co-create the relationship we want together, rather than live according to some old paradigm.
No comments:
Post a Comment