Love without Trust is nothing.

Originally I posted this on G+ on Jan 5, 2019, but as it’s shutting down sooner than expected and I wish to keep this, I’m transferring this here.

How did I lose him? By being myself. No, no, that’s the lie. I didn’t lose him because I was myself. I never had him to begin with. He was never something to own. So I never lost him. Can’t lose what you never had. Can’t own a person so you can’t lose a person. So what in the hell did I lose?

A relationship. That’s what I lost. Why? On both parts, a lack of trust, both not listening to each other, both not communicating properly, both not taking the time to build the relationship in the first place and a break down in trusting in a repair process of communication. When he said he no longer trusted me, I stopped trying. I refuse to build my house on sand anymore.

I don’t trust him and it showed. I wasn’t treating it like a relationship in the first place. My own issues are too much for him. And you know what? That’s okay. I’m not everyone’s cup of tea. And neither is he.

I wanted to trust him. I kept trying and I kept failing. So, in reality, the relationship broke up because I was being myself. I was being authentically me, with all my insanity. And you know what? That’s really okay. It wasn’t meant to be.

He can say till he’s blue in the face it’s because I lied and I will shake my head. I should have Never put up with that accusation from day one. I put up with too much bs that broke my trust him. Yes, he’s brilliant. Yes, he’s incredibly insightful. Yes, he’s downright amazing. He is also very human with all the flaws that means.

But here’s the thing, the man who stays with me will do so because he loves me for who I am, flaws and all. He’ll make sure I know that we’re secure no matter my issues. He’ll make sure he’s standing by my side through it all. And if he falls, I’ll be right there beside him helping him stand back up.

I won’t have to worry about everything breaking apart because of a disagreement. I won’t have to worry that silence is a punishment or abandonment. I won’t have to worry that he’s talking to others because he’ll trust me enough to share even that part of his life. I won’t have to worry about what he’s thinking because he’ll tell me. I won’t have to worry that his disappointment in me because I did something he didn’t like, will lead to a breakup. I won’t have to worry about walking on eggshells around him. I won’t have to worry about the mind games playing out because they won’t exist. I won’t have to worry about a whole lot of shit because I won’t put up with it.

That part the sucks, is that I love him. Flaws in all. shrugs It wasn’t meant to be and that’s okay. And it will be okay for you too.

If someone doesn’t accept you for who you are, they can fuck the right off. Fuck ’em!

Explanation owed

I knew one day this day would come where I’d see your nations flag as a visitor. So I know its time to confess my sins, those that have been so freely spoken here.

I wanted more, that you know. But what you don’t know damns me. I never fall out of love. It never fades, at least not for decades and so far not even then. I just keep tight control on that emotion. So how have I done what I have if I’m still in love? I ask this often and I have no easy answers.

My devotion consumed me. The distance and lack of consummation burned me. I tied myself up so tightly to you that release almost killed me. I think I took it way to far, this submission of mine. Frightened, I pulled away. And then he came into my life. All your lessons and my sins were heaped on my head, unable to serve two Masters. But one was closer and promised more, at least for a time. Yes, he did go too fast, too soon.

I broke trust with you and felt I didn’t deserve to stay so I banished myself. I was selfish and needed you, still, need you, so I stayed silent. I knew this day would come. The piper would call and I would tell all. Some say Second Life is a game but I saw it as a place where I could be all that I am without restrictions placed by life’s demands. I still hold tightly to the lessons I leaned kneeling at your feet.

I was selfish. I wanted more control and outside of Second Life. I knew my wants went against what you felt was proper. I understand why now. I am dealing with scars earned justly. With you, it was easy to submit. It still is and I know it will remain so. I have a wayward mind and that’s always been the trouble.

When you found your bride…hurt and happy in equal measure. I grieved the loss of an impossible hope. But by then, in that gap, he…I made a choice. I wanted to experience this in real, to be real and not some dearly held unfulfilled dream. So I quietly vanished. It does help he, in essence, banned me from SL which caused me to limit my visits. Guilt doubled sucks.

I know my attempts to tell you were very poor. This isn’t something to fault yourself for not knowing. I’ve stayed open here in hopes of one day all this would explain.

And now its all crashed on us. Lost him for I failed to be consistent, to keep my word. It’s an ongoing problem. I feel there are justifications but there are none in our mind for you. I am guilty.

In many ways, I used SL as an escape from living. I would sit and wait day after day. Nothing around me mattered and nothing got done. I wrecked my health sitting in that chair, I’m sure. And I would do so again if I returned. Your absence made me live again as I hoped your bride brought peace in your life. You are still very much a part of me. I took bits and made them mine. Your language soothes me even still. Your principles I strive to follow. It’s your footsteps I place my feet in even when I fail.

I found a lot of what I was looking for out here. Pain and danger too. I found that peace, that inner devotion, that acceptance of what I am, a slave inside. It moves me and keeps me active when there is a whip. You were right. I do need the stricter structure. SL can not provide that.

And yet I failed here too. Maybe its guilt eating me. Maybe it’s fear. Maybe the trust is too broken. Maybe… I have no answers. All I know is I need and have nothing to show for it beyond the lessons I learn so slowly.

I think of you often and am glad you have your girl. I smile knowing you are not alone anymore. There is a small hope that you will understand but I’m afraid. I’m afraid to hope that you were in love with me as I was you for I know how much being distant hurts on top of what I’ve done.

I’m afraid I will never be free to be this part of me for real. I keep failing. And I’m left to wonder how this dream, this need may be possible. I was always looking for a lifetime and real life. I knew that was a need. I thought I could keep Sl and life separate. I didn’t know I would fall in love in M/s. I failed to consider the implications. I love rarely but deeply. That is why this is so difficult.

I want him even still after saying all this and I feel unbearable guilt. I’m afraid I made a fast choice without knowing why. Every time I feel the chains tighten as I weep. And I weep as I refuse him over and over again. I’ve made a mess of all this. I don’t know how to fix any of it. I’m almost sure none of it can be fixed. Live and learn.

Getting out of bed isn’t so bad.

It’s been a good day. The morning is a bit odd. There exists a twinge of compulsion from Isa but I push it back. I’m forcing her to break protocol and in essence disobey. I refuse to allow her to submit again. It must go though me to her or not at all. As I am the highest authority in the system anything less is counterfeit and will be removed. I had to express that. It tastes bitter on my tongue still even though it’s been a good day. Better than good, actually.

The daily routines are holding well. Adding limitations was the trick. She would work until hospital standards were met. Her body would collapse long before that was achieved. In many ways she has no concept of when enough is enough or when to stop. I exist as her limiter, then rules, then what is physically capable. sigh I feel her behind my eyeballs at times. She’s given me a bit of a heart by sharing with her. It hurts now to be the bad guy even when it is necessary.

Our husband brought us home a bike. It’s nice. I haven’t ridden in over 20 years and I still got on all shaky. Now we are a biking household! Four bikes, four folks and plenty of time in the sun. This feels good. More inner-connection, more shared activities. And Saturday, I’ll fire up my Minecraft server and we’ll all play together. I may even stream that. Maybe. I’m undecided.


I rarely talk about my relationships here. My boy Aries, oh he demands a lot of me! Long distance relationship though but we’ve known each other for a long long time. I provide for him what his wife does not, acceptance without judgment and control. (Now, you in the background who just choked on your drink, I see you.) He had chased me down for decades to be my slave. I had refused him so many times. How can I, do him any justice as a Mistress? How is he able to accept me switching out? How do I do this ethically? I still have a ton of questions. After I decided I would accept him, I called his wife and had a long chat and her blessings. There will always be limitations on this relationship because I am not a dick and have no intentions of destroying what he has.

And I have a ton to learn. I picked up Vile’s “The Breaking of Sabrina” ages ago. Fun read but more like a primer of everything not to do. I grabbed Malkinius’s “I Can Do This” and read it in a single night. That one left me with a lot of chewing thoughts. I found OWNING AND TRAINING A MALE SLAVE By Ingrid Bellemare and have been giving that look over. It really clashes with everything I believe about consensual enslavement. Oddly I don’t have a problem reading works set for Male dominance with female submissive and I think that’s because my boy is a bit gender-queer, kinda like me. I’m not finding much of value in Femdom and that’s perhaps I am revolted by the philosophy that our boys are worthless worms who are inferior to their Mistresses. I have learned to respect the strength of will it takes to be a slave.

Aries’ depth of patience and trust is incredible. It was him whom convinced me that we could do this. So he is mine and I do not take it lightly. So much more to learn and unlearn. I am learning to include him in my life on a daily basis. We are teaching each other. He needs the contact and I need him to be pleasing when he does as well as me being receptive to him in my life even at that level. He needs that touch of control more when his life is spinning out of control. I’ve seen how it calms him. And I still chuckle and shake my head at how all this has turned out. Aries was Isa’s first natural Dominant. He awoke in her the calling of her submission. And now I own him and he kneels for me. And who woke my inclination towards dominance: kindergarten and then in third grade a freckled red-headed little boy.

Life is indeed strange. I’ll be around more often. I may keep Isa devoted to poetry for a measure of time. We’ll see. wink

Five days after my birthday…

She watches a man place a well-thorned rose with the softest of petals in my window and wonders. She walks to the window and steps outside the retrieve the rose making sure she was alone before cupping her hands around it gently and lifting it to her nose as she inhales and smiles knowing there is a good place to keep it… and whispers so softly, “Everything deserves love”.

True that day and every day that’s come after.

Attribution Error

Healing comes from the inside, born of love and forgiveness.

On Silence and Threats
I can do a decade standing on my head.
But we both know that’s a lie.
I’ll be standing on my feet the entire time,
slowly snowed over with Kleenex’s.

Finely solved the whole dream issue of why it hurts so much to not have a Master…
because I had not stopped to look at what I have and to appreciate what I do have. Instead I stared long into the past and let that pain eat me instead of looking forward to building my future.

And I’m weird. I have everything I need to keep and enforce boundaries yet I step aside to allow Isa to be what she is, soft hearted. But I am the core of steel that protects her. A Master must be my equal or better for anything less will continue to cause Isa damage. There are a few odd rules involved. I’m not interested in changing the person. I will deliver a hearty smack down to idiots that cause harm but that’s punishment. If the person is to change, they must do it on their and for their own reasons. I’m not buying the idea that we change because we want the other person to love us more. Just, no.

I don’t tend to peep up and ask questions. I prefer to record and observe. This leads to many interesting observations and unusual conclusions. Which means I need more communication that normal, openness given results in openness returned.

And from now, that have to be able to deal with me. On my level. Isa might/may be their slave but I am not. I’m not always out because I am cleaning up another mess. I am capable of playing nice and acting as support role for Isa. But if I keep getting dragged out on clean up duty, then something is Fucking Wrong! Sense I am not going, I get to take the garbage out. Just don’t be garbage. Easy.

And I’m tired. Tired of prying Isa’s fingers off time and again. Tired of what I know comes after. Tired of being the bad guy, every time. Tried of doing what I know is right. She makes it hard to stay in the front. And today is one of those days where I wish I could just separate from her, like conjoined twins having surgery. There is nothing I know of that can do that. And stop right there, integration is not the answer.

It’s funny, the more I get to look at all of this, I just want to slap her. It’s so obvious that he doesn’t love her like she feels for him. She’s probably nothing more than Replacement Object #4,635; just another voice assigned with the same name, same duties. So she lied. Yup, she lied big time. No, we are not all in. It’s just her. Me, I’m tired of the cycle. I’m tired of being monkey in the middle. We gave integration a shot a long time ago and when it broke, things were worse than before. He has failed to prove he knows how to deal with all of us. All I can say to that is this; there are easier fish in the sea.

Owning a slave that has DID is a pain in the ass. I know because we are a lovable pain in the ass to our husband and boy. Twenty plus years with both of them, they’ve been there from before knowing and stayed and supported us after knowing. They did the work to gain a relationship with me. They did the work to earn a measure of trust, with me.

The buck stops with me, no matter how many times I am willing and happy to step back to let Isa just be. I don’t have her innocence or joy. I don’t have her starry eyed enthusiasm. I don’t have her child like wonder. I don’t have her sensuality. I don’t have the depth of her emotions. I don’t even have her laughter. What I do have, is an appreciation of everything she is and the will and strength to protect her. Even when it’s gonna cut her heart out again.

Hard Limits

Another lovely post neglected in my drafts folder sense Nov 18, 2018. 

I realized I’ve never sat down and written them out. Oddly, after receiving a few emails here, I need too. I doubt that this will prevent those kinds of boundary crossing emails but at least I can point to it and say, hey, they were listed in the profile if you bothered to look. Having a relationship with me or even playing with me is high risk. I have more than enough trauma in my past that I am still finding triggers. I have CPTSD and DID. It’s more than enough trouble to deal with on most days.

These are my hard limits.

Oral sex – I am not into receiving oral. I don’t have issues giving blow jobs.

Cum on my skin – Inside of me or not at all. If it gets on me, you better get it off quick. This will not change. I have attempted behavior modification and this will not change.
Peanut butter or similar consistences on my skin – yes I am a tyrant about the peanut butter knife in the sink. If you eat peanut butter, keep your items clean.

Scat and vomit play – no, just no.

Force feedings – Don’t even try it.

Attempting to startle me – will end up with a punch in the face and me looking at you like you are stupid. I have CPTSD.

Knife play and Gunplay – is out. Again, CPTSD.

Face slapping – again, I have CPTSD. I really don’t want to have to take you to the hospital afterward.

Choking – again, I have CPTSD, so no, don’t do it.

Any form of blood play – You are not using mine and I don’t want someone else’s on me.

Deep bruising – This is out for medical reasons, high blood pressure that’s medicated and the fact I have factor V Levin, a blood clotting disorder.

Purple body parts – Medical. Seriously, don’t disrupt my circulation.

Nerve tingles/prickles – Often in the joints due to pinched nerves so avoid.

Hitting Aiming for the Sciatic nerve – WTF Asshole!

No physical blows above the shoulders – Do I have to really explain this one?

Drinking and drugs – I don’t drink socially and I don’t want drugs anywhere near me. Don’t push me on this. Again, CPTSD.

Using the term ‘Daddy’ – just no. I am unable to reconcile my childhood sexual abuse with this term.

Using the term ‘little girl’ – just no. Same as above.

No Tequila ever – seriously this is big bad juju.

Yelling – Don’t be a yeller in an argument with me. Everything falls apart and is super hard to get back on track, this goes back to childhood abuse.

Asking me to find another slave for you – No, no, and no. I am poly but that is a giant fuck no.

FinDom – Forget it. I work, I get paid. If I don’t get paid, I ain’t there.

Drinking urine – This is out for medical reasons. My kidneys are not your play toys. They are my blood filters and they have more than enough to deal with.

Forced Vegan – No. But I do love eating my vegetables.

Forced to change religion or political stance – No.

Mind reading Doms – I see in your future plenty of disappointment. Just don’t.

Expecting me to submit to a woman – This is not in my nature, not even to please my Dom, Master, Top, Husband, what have you.

Sailor Moon, Barney, Sponge Bob Square Pants and PewDiePie – are words of giant disrespect and not tolerated at all.

Singing the Peanut Butter Jelly Time song – will earn you singledom as I walk away.

No Cam, No Pics – Don’t ask. Don’t beg. I roll my eyes every time I get this and yeah, I don’t give this shit out.

Black and White thinking – The whole my way or the highway thinking rubs me so wrong, if this is you, save us some time, keep walking. Don’t even go with the whole, that’s what a Master is either.

Taking everything personal – If this is a constant trait, I will be gone. Then you can take that personal.

I need a decision tree.

How do you decide on which narrative is correct?

This has bothered me for sometime. At this point I refuse to assign blame and fault  in discussing the failed relationship with Dreamwalker. I am saying there were deep problems and perhaps they represent incompatibility overall. However, I am refusing to assign the narrative of ‘abusive Master’.

There is a couple of reasons for this. Being DID I am now far more aware how a single event can be interpreted thought a variety of lens and viewpoints that still do not detracted from the bare facts of the event. If anything, the lens add on nuisances of meaning that may not belong or may not be appropriate. It is this problem we as a system is wrestling with. How do we determine which meaning is appropriate?

When it comes to Dreamwalker, I am undecided when it comes to applying any label. Let me explain why before I am dismissed as being too Stockholm syndromed.

There was growth. That bothers me because growth occurs under specific circumstances, one of which does not include abuse. I keep getting the image in my mind of the emotions and plant growth experiment. The short of it is, the plants focused on negatively were stunted and sick and those plants focused on positively, flourished. This is an extremely simplistic viewpoint but I have to wonder where that applies to us as a system. Abuse would have stunted us. But we grew, so can I postulate that there was love?

I have to consider that due to our background of abuse and the regular testing (last six months) that I do tracking specifically my attachment style, (avoidant and detached: test here) that someone showing us love could be interpreted extremely negatively.

I know Isabella used one particular event that I can say was perhaps a case of misjudgment on his part. I could even extend that it might be an understandable misjudgment.  I know setting the narrative can set up confirmation bias. I know feelings isn’t facts. I know feelings change. I know how drastically different the same event can be interpreted as I battle with this daily with my headmates.

My biggest challenge is twofold. How do I honor the growth that I’ve gained from here? How do I determine which narrative is the truth?