From amartell Tue May 25 15:26:00 1993
From: amartell
Newsgroups: alt.sex.bondage
Subject: useful problems
Status: OR


Three days ago, Saturday morning. My Lord Alex whipped me again at
the powerful magic sound of Music. On our soft bed, abandoned,
offered, not bound, I flew and dream-saw hot suns and opened skies
clear to me as crystal lakes. However, my body was so much in pain,
that abruptly I said "Red". My Master caressed me, and told me:
"Laylah, it's all right, it was very heavy, I even see a few drops
of blood about to well out, you were wonderful like always, I love
you so much...".

But I wept for a long time, saying: "Master, Master, I have failed
you, I have disappointed you! Please, please forgive my safeword!
Please, beat me again!". I continued in this tone until Alex bid
me be quiet: "You silly slave! You are perfect" - he told me -
"Safewords exist to be used, when necessary, don't you know yet
after all these years...? It would be a waste to safeword too soon,
but worse to do it too late! Besides you said ``red'' in the exact
moment the first drop of blood kissed my flogger - surely not ``too
soon''! So DO NOT WORRY - it's an ORDER!", he smiled...

We spent the afternoon with Flavia, because Lucio was at his lessons
in the Parish, in preparation for his (Catholic) Confirmation. I
studied and worked around the house; Alex kept our daugther, and
went for a long walk with her. Before going out, of course, he
asked me if I really didn't want any help from them in housework,
but I answered no. I have some exams forthcoming for my second
degree, but I'm done teaching for now, and high schools won't open
again until mid september - while Alex works Monday to Friday (and
still too many hours a day, whatever he says about being in recovery
from his "workaholism"...), so I much prefer he spend what time he
can with the children; though it means when I'm not teaching I do
"their share" of housework too, it's allright with me, and with
the kids, who dream to spend even more time with their father...
But it's nice that he is so lovingly insistent on that anyway; he
is the perfect Master but also the perfect slave.

Then during the night my Lord lashed me again. I felt each blow
tremendously, but so sweetly, on my already sore and swollen flesh.
For a long time, during this severe flogging, pain was wonderful:
it was an exquisite companion, it was a blessing, it was an ecstasy.
But at a certain point it stopped being all that, it was just itself,
it became atrocious. I offered this unbearable suffering to my
worshiped Lord, but - I made a *big* mistake. I forgot that for
all His wonderfullness, He does not read minds; and I did *not*
communicate to him at all how terrible had become the pain I was
enduring. Nor, apparently, did I show it outwardly non verbally,
since, for all his care and his long and accurate knowledge of me,
he did not notice at all that something had gone sour...

When at last the scene finished, I trembled and wept for a long
time, silently and wordlessly, as my Master laid down at my side
just as quietly, observing me, occasionally gently caressing my
hair, still unaware. Oh, it wasn't the worst I've ever suffered,
by far; we have done heavier scenes, objectively, but -- in them
either I was living the pain as ecstasy throughout, OR, if not, my
Lord was fully cognizant of the fact, knowingly and deliberately
enjoying hurting me, taking my pain, accepting the gift of myself
in submission that I offered in my ordeal... and THAT made all
the difference!

When I slowly became able to speak again, my Master had realized
by then that something had gone badly for me in the scene. As
usual after scenes, though without pushing, yet he gently probed
verbally to understand it from the other's viewpoint; and I
simply, starkly explained my devastated condition.

He thought it was completely his fault, I was sure it was mine...
The truth was, of course, that we both were in part responsible,
I for not safewording when I should or at least spoken about it,
he at least for not considering the hint he had from the morning
that I was rather battered *and* that I was drifting towards a
reluctance against safewording.

So once again we got an object lesson about how important it is to
communicate COMPLETELY: nothing, not love, not mastership and slavery,
not the longest and deepest knowledge of each other, nothing at all,
can ever fully replace open, sincere, honest, complete communication.
It was a problem for me, in a sense, because I felt guilty towards my
Lord for a long time. I wept, I considered myself a disaster of a
slave. But when I was in the Light again I knew that through this
crisis our love was now surer, our relationship stronger.

The problems of last week-end were indeed useful problems, as I
grew because of them. And growing is a long painful process as we
all know - longer, more painful than the most terrible scene... :-)
To my text-books again, now! But I had to share this experience
with you, as humility compels me: let you all know once more how
Laylah is no perfect slave, no special person, she's very very
human, gets hurt, has crises, bad moments, and tears... how she's
just very, very lucky of being the slave and the Lady of the most
wonderful man in the world...


Blessed be, dearest friends,
    Laylah