Today I am just full of rage. It’s one of those kinds of days I could honestly travel with and wield a machete in VERY creative killing methods. John Patrick teases me because I also write thrillers (of which I feel one coming on) and I love killing people – just savor with complete salivation the blood and gore, relish in the terror my victims feel. Yeah, I know. What does that say about me? Granted, in killing people in my books I certainly can regale in my desire to do serious bodily harm to all the assholes and idiots out there, but there are times that’s not enough. There are days, like today, where I am absolutely sick to death of people and have no concept of EVER wanting to do the ridiculous job of managing community associations for another second. I’m shaking and seeing spots in front of my eyes and why? Because homeowners who live in planned communities can’t seem to do a single thing for themselves. They whine and bitch and moan about – pick a freaking topic of the day. Can you tell I’m pissed off?
After being beaten down by almost 100 emails and over 40 calls today – pretty much every one of the nastier than the one before – I am royally cooked. John Patrick could tell by a single word expressed during a phone call I was really over the top. Maybe it was my dangerous tone or the fact I told him I was ready to blow my head off. He and I had been talking before about the difference between being a submissive and a slave in that my gift of giving submission is just that, a choice I make with the right person. So many people ask how can I – a powerful woman who exudes testosterone – want to or can even consider submitting to anyone? Well, days like today totally show the very reason why.
I want to shake off this wretched world right now to the point I shut down the thoughts, forget the nasty treats and unplug my ‘big brain’ as he calls what I have. Yeah, this big brain has about a hundred and fifty ways to kill ya. I’ve done research for books so watch out. I was trying to imagine actually coming home where I could in a sense remove the portion of the professional and very stressed girl and give over the reins. I can imagine the peace, the freeing feeling I would have in having to make no particular decisions or worrying about the outside world for a little while. Perhaps I’d hand him my phone, my keys and never ever turn on the email that would allow me a second’s glimpse of going back into that world I hate so much.
Perhaps if the tension was bad enough he’d sense I needed a hard whipping, one that would allow me to cry – yes to ball like a baby – and in doing so release the stress. I can honestly imagine the fact I’d shed clothing as I came into the house, thereby releasing the other girl. I’d drop to my knees and serve him for the remainder of the night in whatever method and needs my Sir required. Then if I’d be taken by hand, guided over his knee and spanked for several minutes? Well, I do think that would take my mind to another place.
I was always curious about that and asked John Patrick his thoughts on how he felt he could calm me, re-focus my mind into bridging the vanilla world gap into my submissive role. I’ve just started talking about my need to bridge the two worlds and again, today is one of the perfect examples. As I’ve begun to search my soul, really look at my past and the trials and tribulations that I’ve experienced, the level of angst that sometime throws me into tears as well as bouts of rage, I realize this is exactly what I’ve been missing. My life was all about trying to be top dog, to be the most outspoken, the one who commanded pretty much every room I ever walked into. I tend to do so with using my intelligence, but I admit I also use my feminine wiles. Usually they work pretty damn well. HOWEVER, they certainly don’t via the Internet – emails are the scourge of life. People get to be anyone they want to be. They also have no idea initially I stand six feet tall and can pretty much whip their ass if I want to. So the rage boils inside.
What I find perhaps the most interesting about John Patrick is his ability to calm me with just his voice. He has one of those very deep and extremely masculine voices and for me, I tend to breathe as well as smile when he simply says hello. Yeah, the rather famous movie comes to mind. He just does that for me but today? Even his voice did little to soothe the savage beast inside. What I do find interesting about my persona, the one that continues to change and grow every day, is that almost instantly as we talked I did FINALLY move myself to the place of calm for at least a few minutes – the methods not perfect and I could have used and right now really would like – a good old fashioned over the knee spanking. The act does center the tormented woman inside, define my role, give me a sense of knowing he has full control over me and has my best interest at heart. And he does. I’ve never met anyone who truly worries and frustrates about my world and my safety. He also hears my screeches, offers words of guidance and tries his best to remind me to let the ugliness go.
For this woman, the one who truly longed to be in control of all things, I no longer have that desire to any degree. I will relish the day I can come home, shed my vanilla world and for a little while become the woman I was always intended to be. This is a very personal journey for anyone going through the various passages and every day I learn more about myself. What I know is that the calming place for me isn’t brought about by alcohol or vacations, new toys or clothes and shoes. My inner peace is only brought about by letting go. That’s a very profound understanding and catches me off guard every day. The ritualistic effect of embracing acts in which to switch to the submissive woman is becoming more important. I think that’s reflected in my writing as well.
I very much appreciate those who place their heart and soul on their sleeve – whether in blogs, books, music, paintings or any other creative methods of evoking pain and pleasure, sin and shame. There is something so amazing about seeing the haunted moments of another’s life, the rekindling of passion as well as grappling with trauma. THAT is exactly what I hope you see in my writing. So today? I’m still filled with rage, still long to slaughter at least a human or two but as I hold a drink in my hand I can at least chuckle about my dark desires – and continue to long for a harsh whipping. Hmmm… ‘Nuff said.
Kisses and spanks