(Not) At her service

I was reading this blog post by Dumb Domme, in which she makes a very salient point on the difference between “domestic servitude”, and “housework”. I won't recapitulate the article here, as I think you would be better served by reading it yourself, (Really, you should do that... Go ahead, I'll wait) but it did give me pause to think of how, if at all it applies to my present circumstance. Here I am, a submissive man with a female room mate, and I do the vast majority of the housework. I do most of the cooking, cleaning, pay the bills and car maintenance on both vehicles in addition to working full time so at first glance, it might look as though I am trying to be a “good domestic servant”. The reality of the situation however, is far different

Back story

I used to live with the person who is now my room mate, in a very vanilla and quite conventional relationship. We both worked full time, so it was only natural that we split the mundane business of “housework” between us and it stayed that way for most of the 13 years we were together. Neither of us considered it to be a labor of service to each other. Love didn't mean having a clean toilet, nor did either of us do it in order to make each other happy. It was just shit that had to be done. Of course, that wasn't all we did together. In fact, when we weren't working, we spent practically every waking moment together. It was suggested by more than a couple of friends that were were co-dependent and perhaps it was so. We had completely build out lives around each other, but it wasn't until the relationship had entered it's terminal phase that I started learning about D/s and discovered my submissive side so it was never a factor.

The New Normal

Now, after having been pushed back into the same living space by circumstances, I can say without equivocation that there is nothing whatsoever submissive about my doing of the “invisible labor”. I'm not doing it to make her happy, nor am I hoping to get any favors, sexual or otherwise from her. I have no need to win favor or earn rewards, nor do I consider her to be in any way to be in a superior position.

Rather, it is my way of establishing my own independence and maintaining a measure of distance between us. We are no longer the co-dependent team we once were and I have no desire to go back to the time when we were. In the years since I've been on my own, I have developed my own way of doing things and see no reason to change them. This is not to say that there is no compromise, or that I don't welcome both suggestions or help, but it is my intention that she heal, regain her independence and eventually move on.

When I think of submissive service, I don't think about cooking, and cleaning, (Although I would happily do it if asked) but I think about doing sweet, unexpected, and romantic things. I would not expect to be praised or in any way rewarded to doing regular household maintenance. If I was no longer working and had a full time live-in agreement with a Domme, it would be fulfilling an agreed upon role.

For what it's worth, after being back on my own, again I'm not in any rush to live with anyone again. Not only that, but I am used to working and taking care of my own basic needs and it would take a great deal of trust for me to put my financial and personal security into the hands of someone else. Circumstances can always change and I am always open to new ideas, but at least for now, and for the foreseeable future, I will be doing all my own "invisible labor".

Confessions of a bad guy

I think it's only natural that most of us like to consider ourselves to be basically good people. Sure, we may make mistakes from time to time, but we are still on the side of the angels. Since breaking my ankle a couple of weeks ago, I've been stuck in my apartment, with nothing but time to think about stuff like that.

I was remembering all of those times when I'd been disabled or had to visit the emergency room for one reason or another and there have been quite a few. In trying to put them in the proper historical perspective, I also stared thinking about other life events that were happening at the same time as those things. After mulling it over for a while, I've come to the conclusion that I have not been nearly as close to the angels as I have always thought I was.

You see, I have this opportunistic streak and after getting into a tight spot, I've been known to use extra legal means to extricate myself from it. Not that I would prey on little old ladies or steal from family and friends, (or even strangers, for that matter) but I still would do whatever I had to do in order to get my needs met. Because I didn't hold a gun, and rob people, I didn't think it was so bad. It was just stuff that had come from big warehouses, or was grown in somebodies “garden” so I thought of it as a sort of victimless criminality where nobody got hurt. Don't get me wrong, I always felt terrible afterward and swore that “this would be the last time” but that last time never seemed to come.

It started while still in my late teens, and into my early 20s, after earning the trust of a few guys who lived outside the law, and I was able to earn extra cash, fuel, weed, or whatever in exchange for doing the occasional “favor” for them. It usually involved transporting goods that had “fallen off the truck” somewhere. On occasion, it was marijuana, although I was always real careful not to carry too much at any one time. Even during my years in the cult, I maintained a couple of contacts on the outside because hey, you never know.

After leaving the cult in 1995, (OK, they threw me out) I got arrested after getting into trouble while trying to earn some cash to help a friend save his business. (No, I don't want to share the details)There was not enough evidence so they had to let me go and ever since then, I've been trying my best to remain on the straight and narrow.

The thing is, I don't know that I entirely trust myself to stay that way. Although in my favor, when everything fell apart during the housing crisis in 2008 I worked lots of overtime, paid off who I could, before being forced into bankruptcy, and I didn't fall back on that old “anything goes” pattern. Still, the urge is there and when it gets strong, I need to remind myself that there is no such thing as a victimless crime. Even if I get clean away with stealing a million dollars from someone who will never even know it's gone, there will still be two victims: my character, and self respect. Perhaps, by maintaining that perspective, I'll be able to move a little closer to the angels.

Best of Enemies

I'm not really sure if you could call what we have a friendship. I'd say it's more like a long term truce... Kinda like Korea, but without all that barbed wire and watch towers. Sure, we have a history that goes back 23 years, but the relationship had quite a few rough patches before it died hard, leaving not only heartache, but financial ruin for both of us in it's wake. It took many months before we we able to start to try to rebuild some sort of relationship and even at that, it was only on account of her becoming disabled after enduring a brutal assault, and subsequent legal problems that we were able to look past the hurt and mistrust.

Now, almost four years since I first moved out, she has had to move back in with me, and although she feels safe here, she makes no bones about the fact that she'd rather not be here at all. After having been on her own, since she was sixteen years old, she has never had to rely on anyone for her survival, so this cuts to the very core of who she is. I can understand that.

In the three months since she's been here, I've come to realize just how different we have become. The conversations that used to flow so freely between us are infrequent, and at times, somewhat forced and I find myself being careful not say something that will stir up the problems that lie dormant just beneath the surface. We are mentally and emotionally in two different places. There is nothing that passes for affection between us and there is the always present danger that a wrong word will reignite the problems of the past. We may share the same place, but we are not close... Just two people, forced by circumstance, that have to learn to live together.

If you've read this far you might think: “Geez, what a terrible way to live”, but I'll tell you something, there's good to be had in such a situation.

There is a basic courtesy and respect for each others' space and needs as well as a familiarity with working together in order to achieve a common goal. That goal is to see to it that she regains her independence and I am pleased to report that she is well on her way. By doing things on a quid pro quo basis, we are both learning the art of negotiation and compromise and are taking real pains to see to it that things go as smoothly as possible. Patience with each other and our circumstances has become the order of the day while we both settle in to what has become the new normal and what we may lack in mutual affection, we make up for in the determination to make this work.

I have always wanted to believe that civilized and intelligent people should be able to put aside personal differences in order to achieve a common goal and you might say that this is sort of an experiment that I hope will reinforce that belief.

I know that issues will arise and there may be some difficult times ahead, but I am hoping for the best possible outcome. Even though we are no longer best of friends, perhaps being best of enemies will be good enough.

A Morning after Story

A fictional re-accounting of something that I remember from a long time ago

She gradually awakens in the pre-dawn darkness as he stirs slightly, and she smiles as she feels the comforting and familiar weight of him splayed across her, his head nestled under her chin. She reaches up and begins to absently stoke his hair when it hits her like a thunderbolt and she remembers what happened. This is all wrong. This is not HIM. This is not the one she has grown to love and cherish. This is a feeble imposter, and the shallow, shadow of a man, laying here now, has the temerity to think that he could even begin to fill the shoes of the one she would have given almost anything for. She has allowed this fool into her bed and now he lays here sleeping, as though it was his right to do so.

It's not his really fault, she thinks. I was the one who asked him here and it was only at my insistence that he stayed. Sweet, kind, and gentle, he tried his best to “be there” when she called. Fawning on her like a modern day courtier, he tried to assuage the pain of her loss by making her laugh, think, and in his own lopsided way did his best to see to it that everything was “just so”. There was even a brief moment, when they were making love that she considered that there might be a faint spark between them, but his sexual efforts were as inexpert and clumsy, as they were in earnest. Even after he had spent himself, he had tried vainly to please her until they both collapsed in frustrated exhaustion.

Now, in the aftermath of a tumultuous night, the only thing she could focus on was the one who was no longer there. The more she thought about the one she loved, the more she missed him and the pain of that longing sliced knife-like to her very core. With the body of a god, the heart of a lion, and a sharp and inquisitive intellect, he strode head and shoulders above most, and when he slept, it was the deep slumber of victory. It was the restful sleep of one who knew neither fear nor boundaries and when he woke, the world would take note. At that very moment, she longed for nothing more than to be bound up in his embrace. By comparison,this one with her now seems timid and weak. Like a child too eager to please, he gropes about looking for approval, never understanding that it is not the things that one does, but rather the person one becomes, that makes him special.

Suddenly repulsed, she tries to slide of of bed without waking him, and she has to shush him soothingly as he fitfully turns over. Once he seems to be sleeping again, she slips into a robe and slippers, and pads off to make coffee. Sitting alone in the kitchen, for what seems like a long while, she stares into her cup, wondering how she could have allowed this to happen. Was she really that lonely, or maybe she just drank too much. Perhaps she just wanted a measure of revenge against the one who had hurt her and this was the quickest way of doing so. Whatever, she thought, the trick now is to get this imposter out of here and move on with the day.

He appears suddenly in the doorway, fully dressed and far too awake and chipper for the hour. The conversation that follows over coffee and breakfast, is lively and engaging, and she begins to remember a bit of why she had been attracted to him in the first place. Between peals of laughter, she thinks to herself; “I'll give him credit for one thing, he's a funny motherfucker”. Yet, for all the lively banter, they could both see the failure and disappointment reflected in each others' eyes and this was his way of not only leaving in the most gentlemanly way, but as a salve against the sting of rejection.

The final parting went rather quickly. “Well,” she sighed, with a gentle wave of the hand, “I have a ton of stuff I need to do and I suppose I really need to get to it”. After they exchange a few more meaningless pleasantries, she kisses him softly on the lips and giggles at him ”Drive carefully now. Remember, that car's not paid for yet”. Trying hard to hide his disappointment, he smiles wanly and slouches away as she closes the door behind him.

Thankful to be by herself again, she looks up at the clock and says, “What the hell am I doing up at this hour? Fuck it! I'm going back to sleep” and with her bed, now pleasantly devoid of anyone save her, she falls asleep, and dreams.

Looking forward while looking back

I'm sitting outside with my iPad thinking back on all that has happened in this very short period of time, now known forever as the year 2013 and looking back on it, I'd have to call this one a win.

Oh sure, there was the usual shit that happens: Work related stuff, too much month left at the end of the money, the various personal demons that I fight on a daily basis, as well as a few medical issues, and the aggravation of having to move, rather abruptly to another place. On balance though, I came out ahead.

  The best thing to happen this year was that I found a whole new group of wonderful and supportive friends, while the same time, deepening my ties to the few that are closest to me. The severely damaged relationship with my ex is slowly but surely being repaired, and even though we are no longer "together" we have rediscovered the friendship that we had more than 20 years ago. Being pushed together by circumstances has enabled both of us to relearn the value of working together to our mutual benefit.

It was a year if discovery and exploration as well. Rather than merely stumbling from day to day, in order to just "get by", I have begun to try to expand my horizons, pushing at the boundaries of my limited comfort zone. It started back in June, when with the encouragement of my lovely friend Ferns, I began going to the gym in the hope of not only becoming stronger and healthier, but enhancing my self image as well. Although this last month has made it impossible to get more than a couple of scattered workouts in, I should be able to get back into it as my work schedule eases up a bit.

I have also taken a renewed interest in photography, something I haven't done in many years, as well as started writing a bit. Not only did I start this blog (something I would not have even considered a year ago) but even entered (and WON in September) the Flash in the Pen short story contest. I intend to keep at it too as I find it easier to summon the courage to express myself.

Overall, 2013 has left me a little more centered, confident, and feeling more in control of my life than. I have felt in a very long time. I was able to stand toe to toe with my personal demons and mostly came out on top, and even though there are still a number of challenges ahead, and a couple of dark clouds looming on the horizon, (things I don't wish to mention here) I think that I am in a much better position to deal with them now than I was a year ago.

To all of you who have come into my life, both new and old, thank you so much for being there, and while I may not express it often enough, you do mean a lot to me and I wish only the best for you. May we all have a wonderful 2014

How socks get lost!... Captured on video!

Instead of doing apartment cleaning, cooking, and other mundane stuff, I spent the day having fun with a new stop motion app that I got for my iPad... I love stuff like this. Granted, I'll never be another Cecil B DeMille, but it kept me out of trouble for the day.

Have you ever wondered how socks just disappear?.. This is how it happens! I think that the same thing happens to car keys too!

Paradise Postponed: Losing faith but gaining freedom

Love not the world, neither the things that are in the world. If any man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him. For all that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, and the lust of the eyes, and the pride of life, is not of the Father, but is of the world. And the world passeth away, and the lust thereof: but he that doeth the will of God abideth for ever. I John 2, 15-17

The World... I remember when it was evil. Not the planet, or the people that live on it, but the age itself. At one time, I saw everything around me as the culmination of six thousand years of Satanic misrule that would soon be replaced by the glorious "Kingdom of God", where the righteous would rule with the returned Messiah and the poor, stumbling, and misguided inhabitants of this dying world would be liberated and guided into a new and enlightened way. 

From my mid twenties, until I was forty years old, I labored in a cult that held tightly to this conviction and believed that it would come to pass within our lifetimes. Practically everything I did was predicated on this belief and it would effect every aspect of my life.

Even after the church's original founder died, and a new administration took over, I was inclined to continue to follow its precepts. After all, by now, my entire reality and social fabric had been woven from its cloth. This is not to say I didn't have my doubts. I have always been a skeptic at heart but tried my best to fight against doubt, calling it a tool of the devil, because I wanted to believe, with all my heart, that it was true. I loved the security of "knowing" the "true" meaning of life, and threw myself with enthusiasm into spreading the "Good News" of the "Wonderful World Tomorrow". 

My life centered around weekly Sabbath services, and bible studies, as well as many hours of personal prayer, study, and meditation. I chose to forgo such things as education, career, plans for retirement, and tried to put as much distance between myself and "worldly" relationships as I could. Instead, I formed relationships that were almost exclusively within the church. They became my true spiritual family, and the very thought of a partnership, or even a casual date, with a non-member was completely unthinkable. I chose instead, to use the first fruits of my labors to advance the cause of righteousness while eschewing most of those things that I considered to be worldly, and therefore sinful. I had willingly confined myself to a cloistered existence where every thought and action was to be filtered through this church and it's interpretation of scripture. Closing myself off from the rest of society, I became a slave of Christ, and I would spend many a year, flailing away with countless amounts of both time and treasure in order to prove myself worthy. However, it was not to last.

The beginning of the end started over a seemingly minor point: The age of the earth. The church taught that the book of Genesis was literally true. (Although they modified that slightly, later on) From their point of view, God had used 7 literal days in which to create the universe and as much as I tried to tell myself it was so, my rational, and skeptical mind eventually HAD to prove it one way or the other. For the first time, I began to look into science and it's relationship to faith in order to try to figure out what was true. The more I studied, the more convinced I became that we'd had it wrong but any attempt to get answers to my questions within the group were rebuffed. Now, with my curiosity piqued, I began to delve into the other tenants that I had held so dear to put them to a similar test. In addition, the church itself had begun to evolve in its beliefs which only further convinced me that I had been wrong all this time. Eventually, I was suspended from the church as a non believer and was finally forced to leave the group all together.

I began to study earnestly and in time, the light of rational thought began to seep in to my mind and I began to think outside of that tiny theocratic box I had been confined to for so long. Dogma was replaced by reason, and the arrogance of absolute certainty by the humility of genuine doubt and questioning. Yet in spite of throwing off the shackles of doctrine, and the precepts of a dead faith, I continued to struggle for more than another decade with these things, while in a marriage to another former cult member that would eventually fail as well.

It's only been in the past three years or so, since I have been completely on my own, that a true awakening has come. For the first time ever, I feel completely free. I am no longer putting off the things of life in order to wait for a paradise that is not coming. I no longer look for signs of the end, but rather for sign posts that point the way to the future. The thick veil of irrationality has been rent asunder and I have broken the chains of ideology. I have been liberated!

As exciting as freedom is, it is also scary. The questions of immortality, the reason for my existence, and the very important question of why things happen the way they do, are all lost upon me now, as I suppose they are for most. I feel as though the many years spent in the church have left me socially maladjusted and intellectually stunted, and there are times when I miss that way of life terribly. There are also those times, when I feel lost and so eternally lonely that I can't even begin to find the words to describe it. Yet in spite of the loneliness, and ambiguity, I would much rather grope uncertainly in the light of reality that walk with assurance through the darkness of superstition.