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dannasamanoiiko
08 July 2014 @ 03:54 pm
Trigger warning. Major. Sexual abuse/rape, explicit details.

A while back, someone freaked out about me asking Master (husband) to rape me. So, here's the thing, I'm a masochist. Sexual pain turns me on, so while at first it bloody hurts for him to surprise me and force himself into me, hot damn that turns on the lubrication faucet down there. (Thank you Master for helping me see the masochist connection.)

While mulling this over, I got to thinking about my child self. I remember being sexually abused and how the first time, I was eight years old, was just genital on genital rubbing and how it felt really neat down there. It didn't hurt. It was like a cool thing between me and my dad. Then I mentioned it to him. I think I wondered if it really happened and if it did if it would happen again. I didn't know what to call it, so when I said, "Hey dad, remember this?" and used a rocking hand motion to describe what I was talking about and made squeaky noises to match, dad looked confused at first and then he remembered. He said, "why don't we just forget about that."

Then I knew something was wrong. I had thought this was a cool special thing, but no, it's something to forget and pretend never happened. Some kids never get that message until they are much older. I remember reading a post by someone who said that they never thought they were being abused, that everything was hunky dory until someone told her that this was sexual abuse and thus wrong. Yeah, well, she was like me but didn't get the clue until later. She was angry at the people who told her and thought that if no one told her anything she wouldn't have such issues.

In some way, I get it. I mean, come on, you mean this really cool feeling between me and my dad was wrong? What the hell? We, as a society, forget that rape does not actually have to hurt. When you're a kid, the person molesting you usually romances you, the child, and does all sorts of other non-sexual fun things with you.

I remember waking up to a sudden pain while I slept on the couch. My hymen had been broken by a single finger. But see, it didn't hurt forever. He had been stimulating me in my sleep and then afterward too. I just laid there, and with him rubbing my child breasts and telling me "you have a beautiful body" it didn't feel bad. I just knew that this wasn't supposed to be happening. So, there I was, eight years old, being raped, not fighting back, not saying anything. I just nodded or maybe I said "thanks" to the compliment, with my hands behind my head waiting for it to be over. But except for that one moment of pain, it did not hurt.

I used to think something was deeply wrong with me. No, in fact, there are women (and men) who are forcibly raped whose bodies STILL orgasm even though they are trying to get away or hoping that they won't get killed.

So, how do we discuss this sort of thing with our children? How do we discuss this sort of thing at church? The best thing I have ever read about being sensitive to sexual abuse at church came from a talk by Chieko Okazaki (may she rest in peace) but it wasn't given during General Conference (Here's the talk: http://www.the-exponent.com/chieko-okazakis-healing-from-sexual-abuse/). How do you say, hey, sometimes you're body is gonna say, HEE YAH! to what's happening while your actual self is going to be horrified? How do you say, hey, you know, some kids who are being sexually abused are going to experience physical pleasure and may even ask for it not understanding that this is a problem? How do you tell people and the world that physical pleasure is not the same as consent? How do you tell that girl who was sexually abused, whom I briefly met online, that silence is not the answer, that making sex with children legal is not the answer? (yes, that is really what she proposed.)

How do you get people to understand that the victim is the most important person in all of these cases? I hear people say, no way, s/he would never do that. No way, someone convinced him/her to say that. S/he's just trying to get attention. There are so many unhelpful, victim blaming, victim dissing, responses out there.

Sexual abuse is freaking confusing, because it happens not by a stranger but by someone loved and trusted. Adult rape often has the same kind of issues attached. It's even more confusing when people don't believe you or when they judge you.

How do we have this kind of conversation at church? How do you teach people that they can say no? How can we teach our leaders to not hurt the victims more by worrying more about the perpetrator than about the victim? How do we humanize all this talk with all this messiness and nuance? It's sorely missing, at church and in society-at-large. I wish I had the answers, but I don't.

It's all emotionally messy.

When I ask Master to rape me, I'm really asking him to surprise me sexually and force himself in. I trust him and I enjoy the sexually charged surprise and moment of pain. It's not the same as the legal definition of rape. He's not doing it without consent. We found a method of dealing with such things that works for us. I gave him consent in all things sexual when I agreed to wear his collar. He always has consent and, now that I've given it, I can't take it back because of the nature of our relationship. It works for us.
 
 
dannasamanoiiko
07 January 2014 @ 02:42 pm
So, apparently I've given a bunch of people the wrong impression about Master. That's my fault because I usually posted about things that were upsetting and never bothered to post more positive things. Some things I complained about have been resolved, like sucking on his cock with it hurting my jaw. Turns out, changes in position and technique resolved the issue. The man has spent tens of thousands dollars on my health care. In the beginning of our Master/slave relationship he had to learn how to be a good owner and I had to learn how to be a good slave. We're pretty good at it now. Usually. ;)

When I have a migraine I can rely on him to take care of me and our daughter. We're his responsibility. Someone asked me when do I get to learn responsibility? Ha, my problem is that I try take responsibility for things that are not my responsibility, like some of the hardships my mother was facing. I can help, but I'm not responsible. It's hard for me to remember that. I take on so much, too much, that I encumber myself. I let other people's desires, requests, and pain, rule my life. It didn't seem like I was doing that because I would manage all of that stuff while Master was at work.

I have a lot of freedom when Master isn't home. I can pretty much govern myself, as long as certain things are done and the kiddo isn't left to rot (not that I'd ever leave her to rot). The problem comes in when I live by other people's desires. It causes me forget to do other things that I want to do, and that Master wants me to do. Like practicing music. I set them aside, thinking, I'll just get this one thing done, but I keep adding more things to be responsible for. I can't keep doing that and live well.

Master noticed that I kept trying to take responsibility for things (and required that I post about it after giving it some thought). But really, I have no responsibilities except for the ones Master gives me. Serve him. Which largely means: keep the house in order, get and stay educated, do my job well (I work, and Master helps out with household stuff on days that I work too), take care of the kiddo. When day to day things arise I can make decisions without his input. I have to because of the nature of life. However, when it comes to finances and what I want to do, I need to tell him about it all upfront and not wait. When an issue needs to be resolved that isn't an immediate issue I need to talk to him about it and I need to not always try to solve the problem first before talking to him when I do so.

Sometimes I think that my fear of becoming a burden makes me more burdensome instead of a joy to own. I need to relax and rely on him more. I'm happiest when I serve others, but I need to keep that service in perspective. I was inspired by God to become Master's slave. That means Master needs to be the person I serve first and foremost. Evening being a mother is a service to Master (it also happens to be a service to God, to our daughter, to the community). However, "service" is not the same as "responsible for". I'm not responsible for Master. He's responsible for his own self. I can only make suggestions and requests. He doesn't always agree, or do what I think he should do, but he does listen. The final choice is his to make, not mine. I need to trust that he will be a good owner, a good father, and that he won't screw himself over. When I do that, we work well together. When I don't, things are strained. I need to remember that ultimately, the only responsibility I have is to be of service to him to the best of my ability. Everything else is secondary.
 
 
dannasamanoiiko
18 November 2013 @ 03:48 pm
I've been having trouble sleeping for the last three nights despite being tired. Last night I suddenly realized why. After reading this gem: http://mahonristewart.blogspot.com/2013/11/a-kingdom-of-priests-my-support-for.html I realized that I was feeling uncertain about my place in all this. I believe in female ordination but all that implies, but where does that leave me; a Mormon woman in a Total Power Exchange relationship?

I remember soon after being collared laying on the bed, thinking to myself, “Oh my god, what have I done? Is this really the right thing to do? Give up my freedom, my agency?” The agency to choose is a really big deal in Mormonism and I just gave it up to Master. As I was thinking these somewhat panicky thoughts, I started to pray, asking my Heavenly Father if I was indeed doing the right thing. And then these words, words that did not feel like my own, came into my mind, “This is how he will be able to trust you again.” That fixed it for me since I knew God wouldn't give me the green light for something that would be bad for me.

Interestingly enough, years later (last year I think?) Master told me that he needed that level of trust from me in order to be able to trust me again. I was like, wow, because dang, that's what God said. It was cool. We went from having a broken failing relationship to a renewed one.

Anyway, so here I am now, with this very powerful spiritual experience, thinking that perhaps I was doing it wrong or something because “all are alike unto God”, but I'm not doing it wrong. I'm doing what's right for me so where do I fit in the grand eternal scheme of things?

So I started thinking about the nature of TPE. What is involved with it? What principles are behind it? This is what came to mind (in order starting from the first!) Trust. The degree of trust involved is astounding. I have to trust Master without any degree of reservation. He has to do the same with me. He has to know that I follow his orders when he's not around. I have to trust that he will make the best decisions for our family. So, for this level of trust there also has to be a high level of faith in the other person and of charity. Faith that Master won't purposefully be cruel to me. Faith that I won't go out of my way to undermine his authority. Charity (the Bible definition, about not envying, being long suffering, being patient, kind, unselfish, etc, sometimes charity is translated as love) so that when we both make mistakes we can forgive one another, and let it go which means we would still have a high degree of trust in each other. Of course, this means there must be a high degree of communication, consideration for the other person, and actually listening to the other person regardless of status.

I then realized those same elements are required in egalitarian relationships. That's how the best ones work. So, in essence, I'm still learning the same heavenly principles but using a different curriculum. Both kinds of relationships take a lot of work. Are there TPE relationships in highest order of heaven? I don't know, but I don't think it matters much because if it does and we both get there, we'll be happy. If it doesn't, and we both get there, then since we'll have practiced the same principles we'll still be apply those and be happy.

A happy slave makes for a happy Master. A happy Master makes for a happy slave. We both do things we don't have to do to make the other person happy. Master doesn't order me to do everything. Some things I do out of habit now started out because it was a simple way for me to serve and make him smile. Master doesn't have to help out with the dishes like he did just this past Saturday, but he does it because it helps me and our family. In a weird way, by being a responsible owner Master serves me too. But unlike a cat, I know I'm not the one in charge.

In a happy egalitarian relationship wouldn't what I just said, “we both do things we don't have to do to make the other person happy” also apply? My friends and family who are in those kinds of relationships seem to think so.

Now, I'm good. After this epiphany last night I was finally able to go to sleep. Thank you Master for helping me learn how to be self-reflective. We didn't even have to have a big production for me to figure something out this time. ;)
 
 
dannasamanoiiko
26 March 2010 @ 09:47 pm
Today, for the first time, I really enjoyed anal sex.
I think there were a few reasons for that. One, I used an enema beforehand, so I knew I was clean. Two, there was lots and lots of foreplay, including being flogged, giving lots of head and his cock in the cunt. He made me cry this time with the flogging. Then, not only that, but we did it where he was on top of me, like he would be if he were in the cunt. when he first got in, it hurt, and surprised me, but, I wanted him in me, I wanted to please him, so I started touching myself, he tossed on some more lube, and he went in, and it felt good. He went in nice and deep and did not leave my ass until after he came. But it was strangely nice, not like before when it was doggy style and it was impersonal and he was simply dominating me. I could hold him, and cuddle with him, and bury my head in arm or shoulder. It was so different. He had said that if there was time I could get him hard again and then he'd cum in my cunt. There was not enough time for that, but I didn't feel a need for it. I was pleasantly satisfied. I got to orgasm too, stimulating clit while he pumped my ass. We orgasmed in unison, and it was glorious. Master was so pleased. It was the first time I truly enjoyed the experience. Thank you Master for the foreplay, and the enema kit, and for making it sweetly personal. I am content. :)
 
 
dannasamanoiiko
02 June 2009 @ 12:19 pm
. . . made me tell him everything in person.
 
 
 
dannasamanoiiko
I tried to be a good girl yesterday (read: masturbate) for Master while he was off walking (he likes it when I do that sort of thing) and instead of feeling good about it, I felt more down.

Master says to me yesterday, "life's no fun when you're miserable" and I think, then don't make me miserable.

I was sick all weekend. Except for a stuffy nose (better than an ear infection), I'm pretty much physically better. But emotionally, I just felt more down as time went on.

Here's why.

I wanted to do the polite thing and introduce Master to the father of our daughter's friend during a field trip. Master wouldn't let me because he didn't care. It's not about caring. It's about being polite, and it hurt that he wouldn't let me do the socially polite thing. He's always up in arms about proper internet etiquette, but in real life that doesn't seem to matter. It also bothers me that he wasn't at all interested in meeting a person who has some influence over our daughter. . . But seriously, why can't we be polite in real life?

It was my birthday. I feel differently about the Prop 8 issue than Master does. During the course of a meal at a restaurant with his parents, we're there because it's my birthday, Master managed to bring up the decision made by the court, which was fine - I even said that with the current marriages staying intact that in a few years someone would say hey, if they can do it why can't I (not quite like that since he interrupted me, but whatever), he managed to insult me. Why couldn't we have left it at that? In a few years, a few, like a handful, prop 8 will be completely over turned, why did he have to go out of his way to insult me? Why did he have to encourage further comment, forcing me to stay silent on the issue in the effort to preserve harmony for what was supposed to be a pleasant outing? It really frustrated me and hurt my feelings. My father in law noticed. He gave me the kind of smile that he does when he knows I am making an effort to preserve the peace.

These first two things had nothing to do with being sick, these were things I was already going to talk to him about but then, I just started feeling worse after being sick all weekend.

The place is a disaster. Now, it wasn't perfectly clean because I got eaten by finals, but the place was worse off cleanliness wise. I had to do three days worth of dishes. Why, why couldn't he have at least done the dishes while I was sick? I did a batch while sick and then another yesterday.

On the second day that I was sick, I went to go talk to my clergyman about getting food orders from the church because it's been a month and Master still has no job. Why couldn't Master do that for me? I should not have been there exposing people to my illness. I know that Master is not of the same religion as I am, but the clergyman would have listened to him too and would have understood that I was sick. . .

On the first day I was sick I needed Master to go get our 72 hour kits we had ordered, but he didn't. All he had to do was drive down to the church and pick them up, they were already paid for. He couldn't be bothered, and would get upset with me in my fevered state when I would mention it. The email address isn't working so now I have to go through the high school to find the people I ordered from. Why couldn't he have alleviated this worry? When I mentioned what I was going to have to do to try to get the order and how it would have been so much simpler if he had just picked them up his response was "meh". This was upsetting to me. He doesn't care that we may lose out on $40 and that now I have to spend time dealing with this instead of on something else? He doesn't care because it's not him dealing with it? It was so, casually mean. . .

On the second day that I was sick I ended up having to make dinner. This was upsetting to me because I was still too sick to do it! Yes, I could manage it, but I was SICK. I should have been in bed, working on healing, not making food and trying not to breathe on it. I don't understand why it is that the moment I can stand up Master stops taking care of me. He's always been like that, even before we became Master and slave. But when he's sick I've always made sure he'd take it easy for a few days. I just don't understand it. And it really hurts my feelings.

I cried twice last night. But quietly because I didn't want to talk to him about this. I didn't want him to interrupt me or to get mad at me. He gave me a hug last night because I looked like I needed one while I was getting ready to fall asleep. That was true, I did. He said it looked like I wanted to say something. I said no, I didn't want to *say* anything. I wanted to write it, because at least then I'd be able to say my piece. (I am suddenly uncertain as to which piece should be here, peace or piece, hm.)

Anyway, I guess that's it.
Oh yeah, Master, you need to talk to talk to unemployment and see why the check isn't here yet. I'm reminding you here because I don't want you to get mad at me for mentioning it even though I'm *supposed* to help you remember this stuff. Reminds me of our kiddo. "Do you have your backpack?" "Yes, Mom" with a big exasperated sigh.

Okay, I guess that it for real now.
 
 
dannasamanoiiko
04 December 2008 @ 03:01 pm
Yes, really. Mine's (relative mine since you know, I don't own the man) the best. (My Daddy is better than your daddy!)

He is letting me go to a scrap booking group every month (yay for the no nagging strategy, I had to wait two months for an answer).
He is letting me go to the chiropractor! YAY! I get to see the back doctor!
Upon being well, he uses me nice and thoroughly (he even had me get dressed up for it).
He says he's too damned nice. Maybe that's so, but he makes me happy.
As long as I'm a good girl and please him he is very much willing to grant me more privileges.

I am grateful that he does not limit my computer time. I just have to get all my work done and not neglect the little one and it's all good.

*swoon*

I love my Daddy.


Ack, homework, must do. *sigh*
 
 
dannasamanoiiko
22 November 2008 @ 11:51 am
So Master emailed me fifteen hours ago. He told me to read this: http://www.ofthislife.net/blog/?p=627 then to post about it here and then we'll talk.

Whenever Master says we'll talk I instantly feel like I'm in the dog house. Maybe I am.

Last night Master was taking DayQuil instead of NyQuil. I asked him why because it's the NyQuil that will help him fall asleep. He got annoyed with me and told me to hush it. I turned (he had given me his water bottle to fill) and I said whatever. He told me to please assume that he had a good reason for taking DayQuil instead of NyQuil. At least I was smart enough to keep my mouth shut at that point. His reason turned out to be because he wanted to drain his ear and still be awake enough to enjoy getting sucked on. (Now I'm thinking, well we could have done that and then he could've taken NyQuil so he could sleep afterwards...)

I did complain some about that but only because it hurt my jaw and he was having me do it for a long time. My jaw is STILL sore from it. I don't think he understands how painful it can get, even when I do relax it. My jaw pops when I open my mouth wide and when it does it moves out of place, which probably is one reason why it's difficult for me to continuously deep throat, especially with any sort of speed.

Later I had to ask him to be careful with my head because he was holding my hair so tight while pushing me down that I very nearly got a migraine. He's never held my hair tight like that before, so I don't know if he was just really into it and wasn't thinking or what. He was more careful with my head after that, though it does bother me that he didn't care if he hurt my jaw. I swear it'll never get better because he keeps abusing it. It's not so bad if he only abuses it a little bit.

Maybe I'm way off base. Maybe last night had nothing to do with him wanting me to read the article linked above, maybe he was just giving me a reminder. Oh, in the article are three steps. Shut up. Listen. Do what he says. I think I'm okay with that much of the time, but if I don't understand why I'm doing something I ask questions. I've always been encouraged to ask questions because blind belief or blindly doing what someone says is not a very smart thing to do. Even Master has encouraged me in that vein. I hope he's not changing his mind. . . Sometimes he'll answer my questions and other times he'll say, "just do what I say" and I'll go do, but that's so much easier to swallow because of all the times he DOES answer my questions. I don't ask questions out of insolence but out of a desire to understand.

I will admit I was worried last night about wasting the DayQuil. We've had to sink a lot of money into the car and I didn't want us to have to spend money on more DayQuil any sooner than we had to, but that's not my problem. Master is the one that handles the finances. Sometimes it's still hard to let that go. I also was concerned about Master's health. He has this horrible habit of shorting himself on sleep, which makes him mores susceptible to illness. He is also on medication for his ADD which removes his ability to recognize the warning signs his body gives him that he's over tired and must sleep, so he shorts himself on sleep even more than usual. So, yeah, I worry about him.

I also was feeling a bit frustrated and depressed yesterday because I am not passing my statistics class. I know that doesn't help me deal with things like I talked about in the above paragraph.

I did ultimately please him last night which is good, but he did mention that I almost didn't get used last night and that I was lucky his annoyance with me was not as strong as his desire to use me. Erk. (Good thing i kept my mouth shut that second time eh?) That has happened in the past where I've annoyed him and he doesn't want to touch me, which really mucks with my sense of self worth.

Well, since I don't really know what exactly Master is thinking I suppose I'll just wait and see what happens when he talks to me. Gleep.
 
 
dannasamanoiiko
22 August 2008 @ 09:34 am
I posted this in the Alternative Lifestylers team on SparkPeople.com, a nifty free weight loss site. Some folk found it inspiring and one gal actually printed it which left me stunned and blushing.

The question was:

Is your goal weight just a number? what will happen when you acheive that number? I read in Dr Phil'd book some time ago that we expect reaching our goal weight to resole, health and emotional issues. poof we like ourselves. what do you expect to change when you reach that number? or do you expect it to change on the way?

My response was:

My first goal is just a number, because it's what Master wants. It is the first step. The reason behind that number is because I want to wear my old clothes that makes Master want to immediately take them off again. I want to run, I can run in my dreams and darn it I want to in real life too!

I want to play DDR without wearing tight clothes to prevent the slapping fat sound. I want to cause less problems for my creaking knee (yes it creaks and I'm not even thirty yet). I want to be able to have cake and ice cream on birthdays in twenty years and not have to worry about my blood sugar levels like my mother.

I want to be able to dance and have it actually look sexy for Master. I want to be more flexible in bed. I want to look at myself in the mirror and not see fat rolls and wonder how it is Master finds me attractive. I want to look at myself and say, yeah, I'm good. I want to conduct music in short sleeves and not worry about how stupid my flapping arms look. I want to learn how to eat only when I am hungry. I want to be a good example to our daughter so she won't have the same troubles I've had.

I want to run and not faint, I want to walk and not be weary. I want strength. I want endurance. I want to be able to kick ass, take names, and chew bubble gum (though I'll need a gun to help me with that since I en't no ninja).

I want to go hiking and not slow the entire group up. I want to bloody well live and not worry about my body letting me do so. I want to fix my defective brain and the only way to do that is to feed it healthy food and exercise regularly to increase blood flow. I want my brain fixed so I can be a better mother, a better slave, a better more Christlike person.

My body is connected to my spirit. It all goes together. You can not separate them, it doesn't work. I want to put it all together with all the correct puzzle pieces. I want to work to become something better, greater than myself, instead of being just a waste of skin easily forgotten in two generations. I want to be an angel of a sort on earth.
 
 
dannasamanoiiko
09 August 2008 @ 02:30 pm
Master said that if I can manage to deep throat him and let him cum in my throat he'll be me the current Mage book and the rule book to go with it.

With me luck. . .