abuse

This may be hubris or futile

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I don’t know if this applies to anyone reading this
Or if I even have the right
But I’m in a position to say it so it’s my responsibility
If he or she(they, etc) harms you, you have my permission and my hope that you leave.
That you go and find someplace safe. That you seek out what help is available and you go.

I know it’s not my place or even if it will do any good but know that you are better than the person inflicting you with trauma and you, in no way, deserve whatever harm is occurring.
You deserve a life free from fear, free from harm.
No one has the right to harm you. No one has the right to physical or mentally torture you.

If you are waiting for someone to say, leave. To be given instruction to go. Then this is it. Go. Leave and never go back.

Nightmares are also dreams, A Pel and Sara story: part 4

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The reality is, this ring is hidden. They’ve existed in a city where I have been hunting. Existed and thrived. They’ve raped, broken, and sold people. We have no evidence that their depravity extends to women alone. There could be men or others.

The hell of it is, nothing they’ve done is outside of what some consider play. Edge play to be sure, but still play. And, if I’m being honest, the monster in me saw the videos and was excited. Aroused even. Ideas I’d normally take home and propose to my Sara as a good time.

Of course, if it was just play, I wouldn’t be doing this. But they take without consent, they push past the red line and past safe words and break their toys. They Enslave them for real. And something dark in me smiles at the thought. And perhaps this is part of why I loathe them. My life is made up of trying to control the darker desires. Channel them into acceptable ways, if just barely. And these people are breaking these women. Girls, just discovering who they are, and taking away their choices. Without consent.

And that alone condemns them to death. But as I said, they have operated under my nose for years. Maybe I just didn’t want to see. Maybe I was too consumed by my small group of curated friends. Maybe I don’t seem like enough of a misogynistic bastard to fit in with their crowd.

I contemplate all of this as Jen drives me home. Outside the cool black leather the harsh desert air shimmers the asphalt. I go home to my girls. No progress made. Not really. We are still trying to find a way in.

And I’m feeling frustrated in more than one way. After these days, I won’t say we haven’t played but it’s all been so relatively tender. Paddles and clips as far as we go. I know Sara is feeling it too. Tomorrow, I will have Jen escort Tara shopping. Tomorrow, Sara and I will unleash. It’s been too long. I ache for her screaming. For her tears. I need to see her fear and lust.

Make no mistake, I love Tara. I love the tenderness and the gentleness of having a pet. Taking care of her is a pleasure and a joy. But, I also love my wife. And we are compatible beyond the bedroom and beyond the rules. But…she needs play time, too. And her play is pain. And as much humiliation and depravity as I can muster.

I have so many ideas. We’ll see how many we make it through before our Tara returns.

Sitting on the sidelines

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You self identify as the thing that you hate because by embracing it you can make it a little bit yours even though it’s what is destroying you. You keep running on that treadmill needing to control something, anything, drowning in socially acceptable positive self image when what really needs to change is this situation where neglect of your needs and desires is the best you can hope for. But I can’t make the choice for you, I can only sit here telling you that you are valued for the things other than what you do for other people. That you are valued for your self and hope that some day you will listen and that this thought will work it’s way into you past your defenses that say you are not worth enough, not doing enough, not human enough to get the things you need without destroying yourself, that you must fit into the mold that they impress upon you to have value.

I’ve read your art and seen it and that glimmer in your eye is passion and unshed tears for this future you give up to fit. It’s never the right time, enough time, always busy, always in motion but never for the pieces of you that can break you free.

You’re fighting so hard to be this perfect thing that you are hurting who you are and it’s terrifying to watch and I’d make it all stop but you won’t let me. I’m happy you say with a smile that never reaches your eyes. I love him you say like a talisman you hold out in front of you. While his expectations and silence chip away at the pieces you try to slip past your walls.

Love does not destroy like that. To be sure it is destructive but it’s passage is marked by rebirth, by growth, by joy and waking. But you love him, you say. And I can’t keep pushing because each time I do you pull back a little more. I just want you to see what I see. To wake up. To see what everyone but you sees in your tone and words. Your discontent. Not wanting to be here but when you are there you aren’t comfortable either.

Watching your pain. But I am not allowed to act.

You’re comfortable in your misery

Pelgris2 Comments

Inflicted by silences
Taken for granted
A punishment for long ago pains
actions aren’t punishable forever
Words spoken, of forgiveness, not matched with action
Need this slot you fill rather than needing you
Why you put up with it is a mystery

Guilt he never lets you forget
Abandoned, silence, neglect
Bought a nice toy to perpetuate the myth
All is well, remember what you did.

Embraced by dark emotions, captured by them
Remember the light
Don’t fall for the allure of the comfortable
Just because the pains aren’t physical
Doesn’t mean it’s not abuse.

Thoughts on control

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Control of the self is the only true control. Control exherted on others is either force or with the tacit consent of the other.

Force takes many forms. Physical, emotional, economical. These forms of control are illusion. They only exist as long as the recipient allows it. This is not to say that breaking free from force as control is easy. Merely to say that the first step to breaking that control is to realize that you are giving them the power. As long as you remain a prisoner in the mind, freedom from force cannot be.

I know, if someone is beating you, that you feel like this is bullshit. Until your mind is free, you cannot free your body. It’s the hardest part.

You may wonder why someone who writes about BDSM, Inflicting pain and suffering would care. Someone who is into the lifestyle and if you know me personally someone who seems so cold.

The reality is, it is because I am in the life that I care. That I think about control. I don’t enjoy inflicting pain, most days anyway. I enjoy control, but only when control is given. The submissive grants control. It may seem like the Master takes it. But without consent, it is NOT Bdsm, it is abuse. Abuse is betrayal. I am a being of rules. I do not betray.