The Need to Suffer

I was looking at my profile on Fetlife and thinking of things slave Caroline and others said during the MsC and I realized something about myself. I have a need to suffer for those I serve.

When I started my journey more than a decade ago, I was afraid of the pain. I remember the first time a flogger fell upon my shoulders and how emotion welled out of the depths of my soul. I was terrified. I was thrilled. I was aching to let go. I was desperate to maintain control. I fell into the arms that were opened to me as I stepped off the cross and I cried and shook and smiled and laughed.

Through the years, things changed. I became involved with heavier and heavier sadists. Suffering for their pleasure became an important part of my service. My willingness to stand before them, stripped bare in so many ways, was part and parcel of the ruthless obedience I gave to those I served. I never lost the nugget of fear that lay in my gut each time one of them nodded to the cross and pulled out those things that would bring me pain while giving them pleasure. I never learned to fly as a bottom. The things these men did to me hurt...there's no way to romanticize it. That shit hurts and I had no way of escaping into “subspace.” Instead, I stood, I held on, and I suffered.

But there is value to me in that kind of suffering. That kind of surrender speaks to the depths of my service. It is a way to openly strip away my control and to stand in utter vulnerability before the one I serve. In accepting the physical pain of allowing their inner beast to run free, I can suffer in a way that allows me to recover. There are other ways those I have served have made me suffer and some of those ways are far more difficult to recover from. I'm not saying I'm looking for the easy path, but that physical suffering is something I can do for the one I serve that will not leave me so damaged that the owner will have trouble bringing me back to useful service.

I have never been in an authority-based relationship that did not include some level of S&M play until recently. I don't know for certain how I feel about this. I know there are times when it feels as though there is some piece of my inner self that is set to the side and packed out of sight. Other times my rational brain says, “What are you missing? You don't like the pain.”

What I am missing, I believe, is that place of complete vulnerability. What else do we do in any relationship that puts us in a place of such deep and complete vulnerability? What other action or interaction can strip us as completely bare of our control as standing before someone, knowing they will hurt us in ways we may not like? I cannot think of anything, any situation or interaction, that can so fully demonstrate the depth of surrender I want to give to those I serve as suffering for their pleasure.


And so I have circled back to my beginning...I have a need to suffer for those I serve.

Authenticity

I'm still coming down from the MsC and the thoughts and epiphanies that have come in the past several days. It's always amazing to see the universe pipe up to contribute to whatever turmoil is rolling through my brain. At every turn, it seems, I am finding affirmations, quotes, and essays which touch on things I am working to integrate into my life.

I was reading this essay on Authenticity by Richard and Namaste (http://www.richardandnamaste.com/just-say-no-to-faux-authenticity/) and something in it really resonated with me. Authenticity is as personal as any other part of our journey.

It sometimes seems as though the cry in the community for everyone to be authentic includes a subtle undertone that everyone's authenticity should look the same from the outside. That everyone should be “open” in the same way. If you think about it, the idea is ridiculous. We are individuals and what is me is not necessarily found anywhere else in the same proportions and visions.

I am:

• A Slave
• Dominant
• Sadistic
• Powerful
• Strong
• Courageous
• Afraid
• Loving
• Generous
• Shy
• Loud
• Introverted
• Loyal
• Honest
• Surrendered
• Valuable
• Private

There are many contradictory ways to view me based on my self-identified authenticity. You know what? I don't care. My authentic self is as contradictory as that list. I am an introvert who truly loves being with people and sharing knowledge and love. I just need time to recharge afterward. I am a slave, but I am not submissive. I have to be dominant to live my life authentically and happily. I am a private person, but I like to share with those I care about and trust. I share some things with the world at large, but the deep, inner me stuff I keep close to the vest.

None of these contradictions make my authenticity any less than anyone else's authenticity is to them. Humans are contradictory in many ways. We nurture and destroy. We love and we hate. We create and we consume. Why would who we are at our cores be any less contradictory?


Authenticity has to be individual because everyone's reality is going to be unique. It is important to keep that in mind and to share YOUR authentic self rather than striving to meet the standards of anyone else's authenticity.

First Thoughts from MsC

The MsC is always a tough time for me. I rarely get that kind of time to be immersed in the world I love and be with the people I enjoy. I may live my life as part and parcel of Leather, but how often do any of us get to go and be ourselves without the societal facade we present to the rest of the world. And as wonderful as it is to drop most of our facade and shields, it can be jarring and painful to come back to our lives...to shoulder that masking shield and go back to who we are when others—outsiders--are watching.

And for an introvert, 515 other people in close proximity for four days can be exhausting. My public face and ability to maintain any sort of energy and control usually has a shelf life of 48 hours. Double that and you'll see me dash into a bathroom stall to take a few deep breaths, curse the tears back into my eyes, and remind myself that I am fine.

I know that as I continue to decompress, more thoughts may come, but I want to share a few important lessons I learned this weekend.

As those who know me can attest, I am hard-headed and sometimes it takes a hell of a mule kick to get me to stop hurting myself and those around me. I can chew on something that hurts until it is so deep and so infected with my own interpretations and pain that it never heals. But that isn't what I want for my life. It isn't what feeds me. It isn't what I deserve. So I made the conscious decision to let go. To let go of the pain. To let go of the need to be in control. To let go of the desire to be hurt by things I cannot control or affect. And you read that right. I had to first acknowledge that I was making the choice to be hurt by these things before I could admit I had the power to let go of them.

I realized that my desire to be in control of myself is also a way to control those around me, including the man with whom I am currently under consideration. I realized that every limit I put on what I “need” or feel entitled to, chokes off the authority of this man and cheats both of us of the power and value of surrender and vulnerability. I can't say that I won't ever feel like I “need” to know something or “deserve” to have something, but when I do, I have committed to examining these things, evaluating if they are true needs and then sharing those with him in order to continue to dialog about building our relationship.

I realized that by refusing to let go and be vulnerable with this man, I was cheating us both out of what I know, and he knows, an M/s relationship can be. The more I hold back parts of myself, the less I am in service and the more I am simply paying lip service to the concept. If I cannot let go of my past and the pain and the distrust and allow him to see the deepest, bloodiest, most selfish parts of myself, then I am not serving him. I am serving myself and doing a piss-poor job at that.

I realized that by refusing even a small request based solely on my own dissatisfaction with myself and the fabricated constructs I had imposed on the relationship I was cheating and hurting us both. I was bringing myself more pain as he reacted to my resistance and further imposing those same fabricated constructs because I felt justified in doing so based on his reactions to my inaction. It was a vicious circle and I have broken the current one and set my brain to watch for future ones in order to head them off before they can do more harm.

I realized that I am powerful and valuable and loveable. I have never believed these things with the level of conviction I have right now. I do not have to fit anyone else's definition of slave to be who I am to those I might serve. I do not have to give up being powerful to surrender authority. I do not have to denigrate my own value to make myself available for service. I do not have to pretend I don't need to connect on a deep emotional and spiritual level in order to be healthy and fulfilled in service. And I know I am worth the effort and investment it takes to get to know me, to accept authority over me, and to be responsible for me as a servant.

As I said, I am sure more will come with time and decompression, but these are the key things I have learned and wanted to share with others.


I admit to getting into the car to come home still filled with the pain and anger I had carried through a majority of the weekend only to have my soul finally stand up and scream that if I didn't knock it off, I was going to suffer so deeply that I might not recover. There was a nearly audible click as many of the things I had thought and heard and considered during the weekend came together and suddenly none of what had made me cry before we left the hotel mattered. None of the “inequality” I was fabricating made a damn bit of difference. If I am to be the slave I know I am, I have to surrender authority to the one I serve and in doing so, accept that the choices he makes regarding my day to day life are done with thought and consideration for all involved, including me. I had to understand that being hurt is a choice based on no one but me. To know that I am not the center of the universe and that things aren't done to me, I do them to myself. At that moment I was free to be me. The powerful, competent, valuable, loveable slave...no boundaries, no constraints. I have never felt more free than I did at that moment and I thank everyone who helped me over the past 13 years of my journey to this place.

Decision-Making in a Poly Group

I really like this particular approach to decision-making in a poly group.

1. How does this affect the people I'm involved with?
2. How does this affect my larger world?
3. How does this affect me?

I've been involved in several poly groups over the years and had we all approached important, and even the not-so-important, decisions with these guidelines in mind, we might all have had a little less strife.

1. How does this affect the people I'm involved with?
This is, I believe, the key question in this list. It is important to have considered how your decision will affect those with whom you are involved. It is the unwillingness, or inability to consider the affect of your decisions on all involved that leads to strife and pain in poly groups.

When you add in a power exchange element, this question can be muddied a bit, but I believe it must still be considered. If a member of the group is making a decision that will affect the group as a whole, there will be consequences. If the group is willing to deal with those consequences, that's fine, but when no consideration is given for the rest of the group, often the entire group will suffer more than is necessary.

2. How does this affect my larger world?
I think this question asks us to consider the importance of the decision. If the decision has little effect on the larger world, will you be as determined to have your own way?

3. How does this affect me?
This is an important and valid question to ask yourself before you make a decision. If the outcome of the decision doesn't affect you, let someone else make the decision, or offer your opinion with a clear indication of your knowledge that as the decision will not affect you, you are offering an opinion, not an edict.

I can really only speak for myself when I consider these questions. I know that my first concern will often be how a decision, action, or inaction will affect those around me. I try to ensure that I am not imposing my way of doing everything on those around me and I often step back to give room for others to step forward. There are times when my desires may not be met because of this, but if there are true needs, I speak up. It what I am missing is only a desire, I may have a moment of pique until I recognize that I was the one who made the decision which took away what I wanted.

When is an Apology NOT an Apology

When it is designed to start drama.
When it is essentially a statement of "I'm sorry that you are stupid."
When it is in direct opposition to the original intent of the need of an apology--i.e. it is snotty and snarky while attempting to be an apology for being rude.

Why, you may ask, do I say these things? I was the focus of just such an apology. It was "woe is me, I am never rude and I can't imagine why anyone would falsely accuse me of being rude so feel sorry for me because my dominant said I had to apologize even though I know I didn't do anything wrong."

Sorry, sugar, but all you did was make yourself look like an idiot to those of us who witnessed the original rudeness.  I chose not to respond to you directly because I'm not in the mood for the shit storm of "But she didn't do that," and "I didn't see it, so it didn't happen." I know what the original incident was. Had it been only one time this person's ass was directly in front of my face as I tried to talk to someone at the munch, I would have chocked it up to the crowded space and ignored it. The problem is, that ass was in my face so often that had it come back one more time, I was considering making a hand puppet out of it. If I were the only one who noticed this rude behavior, I could chock it up to me being overly sensitive to the lack of manners displayed by folks, but not only was it seen by the person to whom I was speaking, it was observed by three other people who were sitting nearby.

So, for the sake of education, I thought I would share with folks the formula for the Three Part Apology so that if an apology is requested in the future, folks can understand more clearly what is and is not an apology.

The three parts of an apology are:
1.     What I did was wrong.
This is an admission of wrong-doing. If you cannot admit you did anything that was inappropriate, whatever precedes or follows the apology will negate the apology.
For example, " I would like to apologize for any misunderstanding, HOWEVER, I did NOT" is not an admission of any type of wrong doing. It is rationalization of your behavior and makes you sound as though you know exactly what was wrong but choose not to take responsibility for your actions and have no intention of offering a sincere apology.

2.     I feel badly that I hurt you.
Demonstrating contrition is the second part of the apology. Accept that something wrong happened, take responsibility and recognize that your actions and interactions have an affect on the rest of the world.
"I don't understand why someone felt the need to try to falsely accuse me and go on some rant about my supposed discourteousness [sic]," is NOT demonstrating contrition. It is directly attacking the person to whom your apology is supposedly offered.

3.     How do I make you feel better?
Offering to make amends is the final part of the three part apology. Make a clear statement that you want to offer a change in order to mitigate the effects of your behavior.
"I don't know why people felt the need to hate on me, but I have never done anything to anyone," is definitely not a statement that indicated the willingness on the part of the apologizer to make any sort of change to their behavior. In fact it clearly states that they did nothing wrong, so why should they change?

An appropriate, and less long-winded apology for the situation would have been: I apologize for having interrupted your conversation by repeatedly stepping between you and the other person to whom you were speaking. I understand that such rude behavior is unacceptable and will, in the future, endeavor to be more aware of my surroundings and behave with decorum and courtesy at public gatherings.

See? Wasn't that easier than a half a page of "Oh poor me" vitriol that makes it clear you do not understand either common courtesy or the purpose of an apology? Wouldn't that have been a much better demonstration of your obedience to your dominant than that embarrassing tirade which just further denigrated his position in the community?

Oh and one other note for apologies...anything you say after "BUT" negates everything that came before it so, you may as well not have even said it.

- Three part apology wording taken from:: http://chattanoogaparentmagazine.com/2011/03/2443/#sthash.mJTAgUaz.dpuf

Things I will not do or be again...

I think about what I want from my life fairly often. Those thoughts almost always lead me to those things I do NOT want for myself ever again. Here is a brief list (subject to change at any time).

1. I will not be a secret. If you want me in your life, you must be willing to share me and my position in your life with the rest of the people in your life. I don't expect you to tell your child I serve you, but your child should know I'm more than just your friend (if they are of an appropriate age to know such things). Same goes for friends, family and colleagues. If you can't say I'm important to you to those around you, I'm not and I refuse to be in that position again.
2. I will not be an afterthought. I don't have to be number one on your priority list, but I refuse to be last.
3. I will not be a "back-up plan" in case the relationship you pursued first doesn't work out. If you don't want me to be part of your life simply for what I am, and aren't willing to give me what I need in a relationship, then I don't want you in mine.
4. I will not be the workhorse while everyone else in your life gets to have fun. This is NOT a new refusal of position, but one that seems to be resurfacing. I don't want to do all the work in the relationship, especially a poly relationship, and be stuck working my ass off while everyone else in the relationship gets to play and relax. If you want my help on a project, say so, but don't expect to drop the whole thing on me when there are others, yourself included, who need to contribute.
5. I will not be celibate while you fuck anything that moves. Been there, done that, burned the t-shirt in a raging ritual by the light of the new moon.
1. Addendum: I do not want a relationship devoid of sexual and non-sexual contact. If you don't want to touch me, be touched by me, or give two shits about the needs I have, fuck off.
2. I do not have casual sex and I will not be flattered if you choose to have sex with others in such a way that I have no choice but to interpret your actions as being unable to wait for the whole package since the urge to get your dick wet is much stronger than any desire you might have for a relationship with me.
6. I will not settle. I know what I want. I want a service relationship that also meets my emotional needs. I have spent time to clearly articulate those needs and I expect the one I serve to read what I've written as we negotiate and be HONEST if they are unwilling to meet those needs.
7. I will not be an "also ran," while you pursue someone else. If you don't want me for me, don't trail me along while you're waiting to see if the one you actually want decides if they are willing to give you what I have freely offered. 
1. As a part of this one, I will not be part of your harem...the lady in waiting while you fuck the one you want while waiting to see if that person is willing to fulfill all parts of what you want from them or are only willing to be a piece of ass.
8. I will not serve only in pieces. Either you want me, the whole package, or you don't. I am not a Chinese Combination Platter. You don't get to choose one from column A and two from column B. 

I realize this sounds bitter, but it is a truthful statement of the situations I have found myself in during past relationships and of what I refuse to ever deal with again.

Thoughts and Observations

Something I read on an announcement on Fet yesterday stirred up a ton of thoughts for me. Thoughts of the how and why and what does it matter. 

The post talked about "distinguished authors" in the community and my first thought was, "how does one get to be a distinguished author in the community?" Then, "Who decides which authors are distinguished and which are not?" And finally, "What are the criteria?"

Ultimately, the answers to these questions are irrelevant.  I never sat down to write a book with the intent of becoming a distinguished author. I wrote my books to share knowledge in a way I wished had been available when I first came to the community. 

One of my books was once nominated for an award, but I would be willing to bet not one person currently curating the "distinguished authors" in the community was aware of the book or me...possibly not even the award. 

Knowing this about myself and my books, led me toward another path of thought. I am, for all intents and purposes, invisible in this community. No matter what I've done, what causes I've supported with time or money, what books I've written, classes I've presented, clubs I've owned, events I've put on, there has always been someone who took credit or a dizzying sense of non-entity as people have looked though and past me. I think this can best be illustrated by a simple incident which occurred several years ago.

I released Separating Fact from Fiction in 2007. It is a book about my realities of consensual slavery in the 21st century. A book club was reading the book and invited me to come to one of their meetings to engage in the discussion as the author. When I arrived, someone I had known for several years asked me why I was there.  They had no idea that Shannon Reilly (both my pen name and the first legal name I have ever had--adopted and this was my name prior to the adoption) was me.

I was invisible. I was a ghost. People who see me now only remember my partner as the owner of the Cell Block. They don't even remember me being there as anything more than a quiet shadow who made whips. No one remembers NCEdge, though it was the first edge-play only weekend event in the south and was held in my club for two years. If they do remember it, they remember my business partner again or his other former girl as the face. Not me...not the one behind the scenes making bologna sandwiches for a hundred people the first year because before we changed venues, we included meals as part of the weekend package.

I ranted about this last year at the MsC to my friends. I watch others being held up as pillars of the community knowing that despite having known those same "pillars" for years, few even know my name. 

It isn't that I want awards or statues that will collect dust, or even to be included in the mutual masturbation society that many of the events seems to cater to. I want to be seen...known...remembered. I think that's a very human desire. Add to that desire the fact that I don't want to have to scream it from the rooftops that I'm awesome, and I remain invisible.

Last year at the MsC, Laura mentioned that she had never spoken to her Daddy or family about her desire to earn leather and so she hadn't--until she voiced her desire. I suppose I am guilty of the same thing. I thought my participation in the Leather Community and observation of the traditions of our community spoke loudly enough to my own desire to see my accomplishments recognized by family and friends. It is clear I was mistaken.

I have lived in three long-term power exchange relationships. These were relationships of years at a time and yet I've apparently never distinguished myself enough to earn a collar. The ones I wore during those times were decoration, not formal declarations of my position in the relationship. But I have helped design and officiate at more than one collaring ceremony. The leather vest I wear to show my colors at events I purchased for myself long after purchasing the vest for an owner for the same purpose. I designed the family patch not only for my own family now, but for the family I believed I would live within for life. I wear only my patch because apparently the one for whom I designed a patch those many years ago did not feel I deserved the honor or connection of wearing it when we were together. I don't own boots, though I can certainly care for them and have rescued and presented boots to others. I wouldn't dream of wearing a cover, but I have ensured that others are aware of the dedication and love demonstrated by family members by purchasing and bestowing their cover. 

In short, I demonstrated in every way I believed it was possible, short of screaming "What about me?" that I believe in the traditions. I uphold the traditions. I want them upheld for me. But how does that happen for a ghost?

Think about it for a moment. How many times have you met me? How many times have you seen me quietly serving an owner or at a gathering? Do you know my name? I don't hide it from the community. I don't use Shannon for anything but writing. I use my full, legal name all day, every day. But do you know my first name? Or do you know only my screen name...

I am a ghost in the community. Someone who does the things which need to be done and slips silently back to the shadows. I am the one in the background holding up the structure while others are pushed to the forefront and held up as examples. I am the one who catches those who fall when reaching toward the lights and that is why you see only the shadows. So often we are blinded by the light of the "stars" in the community, the ones who shout and flash and scream, that we forget the arms which catch us, the words which soothe us, the smiles that flash briefly from the dark before we are bedazzled yet again.

Those of us who live in that darkness, who often hide ourselves to shove those we serve into the light for others to see, we care if you see us. We care if you notice us, especially as we serve you. We care if we are not only in the shadows but invisible.

Blows to the Ego and Other Tales from the Crypt

I tend to be a pretty quiet person when it comes to the various things that truly hurt. I'll kvetch or carry on about the unimportant things, but the deep ones, the ones that make me cry silently in the middle of the night, those I don't say much about.

I am human, no matter how much you might think differently. I'm as insecure about my body, my looks, my service, as anyone else. I hide behind the brash, loud exterior people have seen over the last several years, because I got tired of getting beat up for expressing my feelings. 

And there are only so many blows my ego can take before I fold. 

I feel like I'm whining and I don't like that feeling. And yet at the same time I know that if I hear one more person either explicitly or implicitly tell me that I'm not "enough" I am going to scream. 

I'm so tired of not being "enough." Not good enough, pretty enough, smart enough. I don't do my job well enough. I don't look submissive enough. I'm not thin enough.

I understand a lot of things fairly well. I know that some of the feeling of inadequacy is my own. However, looking back over my relationships, I see a pattern. 

In a poly household, I certainly understand seeking "more" to fill an EMPTY place in the house.  You don't go to the dentist to get your ingrown toe nail fixed because the dentist doesn't have the right skills to fill that need. I see the same idea working in a poly household. Filling a space with "more" that is unfilled by the current members of the house, I understand. 

What I don't understand, and what has been my experience over and over again, is filling the space with "more" of the same simply for the sake of variety. This behavior, to which I have been repeatedly subjected over the years, does little other than give the dominant a harem and make every servant feel as though they aren't "enough." 

Why seek out additional servants with no additional skills if the one you have already is enough? Worse yet, why bring these servants into a household where not only do they contribute nothing new to the dynamic, but they take from the tasks and contact the original servant once enjoyed?

I'm rambling and whining, but if someone could explain this compulsion to me in a way that is deeper than "It's the dominant's right," or "It's a male thing," I really would appreciate it. 

Courtesy--The Lost Art

I do realize that because of things like 50 Shades of Crap and CCSI and other versions of mainstreaming what we do there are a lot of new people in the scene. However, "newness" does not excuse a lack of courtesy and respect for other members of your community.

For example:

1. You're tired. You see that the only place to sit down and smoke your cigarette is a table clearly marked, "No Smoking." Do you A) tough it out and suck your cancer stick while standing next to the rest of the smokers or B) plop your ashtray right on top of the no smoking sign on the table and puff away, oblivious to the people who are seated at the other non-smoking table or C) join the other non-smoking table and not only puff away, but do so in a way that blows smoke directly at the non-smokers who were seated at the table before you arrived?

2. You see two people having a conversation. They are separated by a reasonable amount of space (close enough to talk, not so close as to have to sit in each other's laps). Do you, A) Excuse yourself to the people speaking to one another and slip past them to converse with someone sitting near them, B) repeatedly step between the two people so they have an excellent view of your ass, but cannot continue to converse unless they are willing to talk without seeing one another or C) set up a location between the two speakers, after they have been speaking for some time, that requires people to constantly step between the speakers to get to you?

If you answered B AND C to both questions, you would have had my experience at a lifestyle event this evening. Not only was I subjected to repeated bouts of smoke blowing around me and at me from all sides, despite sitting at the non-smoking tables, but because of where one of the smokers sat, people continued to step between me and the person I was attempting to talk to, often without a single thought of what they were interrupting when they did it.

Part of being in service that I have always prided myself on is situational awareness. Being aware of what is going on around me and what others are doing, in addition to observing the normal rules of courtesy and respect would have meant had I done any of what I witnessed this evening, I would have deserved the epic beating any of my former owners would have dished out.

I'm not insisting anyone live by my "protocols" or expectations, except for one. Be courteous and respectful and if someone is in service to you and they fail in those two areas, don't ignore it.

</rant>

What if service were a vocation, not a hobby?

What if service were a vocation, not a hobby?

Let me preface this writing with saying that I am fully aware that the world of The Marketplace is fiction. I've spent enough time with Laura to hear her say so more than once and I am an adult with a working brain. That being said, however, I do find pieces of that world something to aspire to.

The idea of service as a vocation--a life-long pursuit--is something I definitely see as a real-world application of a fictional construct.

If service were a vocation, not a hobby, how different would our world be? If those who feel compelled to serve were able to find places and careers where they were supported in their compulsion rather than ridiculed or taken advantage of, would not our world be better?

Consider someone like me. I have lived a life of service in one form or another from my earliest memories. My mother, whom I love and adore, was not an easy woman when I was a child. I remember spending a lot of time finding ways to be quiet, obedient, and invisible so as not to upset her. I was the child in the corner with her coloring books, quietly amusing herself while the adults had their cocktail party around me. I was the silent child at the dinner table, cringing as other children screamed and carried on. I did these things, behaved this way, not only because I feared punishment, but because I learned very young that a happy mother meant a happy household.

Later in life, I strove for excellence in school and career, not only for my own pleasure, but to serve those for whom I care. And when I chose men to serve, I served to the best of my ability to bring them pleasure and comfort, not to garner a reward for myself.

Service has been, and to a great extent remains, the central focus of my life. I notice things. I remember things. I serve others because service brings me joy...until it doesn't. And there lies the paradox, I suppose, of service as a vocation rather than a hobby.

If I served only on weekends because I got all hot and bothered thinking about the play that would follow a weekend of good behavior, service would be a hobby for me...something I enjoyed but could ultimately live without. Instead I am faced with job searching and relationship endings because after some time of serving without guidance, acknowledgement or care from those I serve, I reach the point of knowing I am damaging myself and must move on.

Were I able to turn my compelling desire to serve, and to be of service, into a vocation where I could have physical, emotional, and even financial needs met, I truly believe I would be happier. I'm not saying I want to be a slave locked in a cage who awaits the master or mistress's pleasure. I'm saying I would be a kick-ass personal servant and assistant and I believe the ideal situation for me would be one in which the basic needs of food, shelter, etc. were part and parcel of my service agreement so that I could focus my talents and skills on serving the individual or individuals who held the key to my collar.

I don't want to be taken care of. I want to care for those I serve. I want to put my skills as a manager, trainer and educator, and writer to work for those I serve. I want to be as the slaves in The Marketplace are...in service, useful, valuable, and valued. They are not the "do me" princes and princesses I have come across in my years in the community, but truly useful servants...useful in any way their owners choose, but also chosen for the skills they offer.

I want that. I want that so badly that I cry each and every time I read any of Laura's Marketplace books. I want it so badly that I have stayed in bad relationships far too long on the hope and prayer that what those I served said when I found them would eventually come to fruition.

My recent experience in being the dominant in a power exchange relationship has left a bad taste in my mouth and I know a good deal of it has come from my own skewed expectations. The boy was not me. He did not dedicate himself to service as I have in the past and I was disappointed. I was hurt. How could it be that anyone in service wouldn't feel as I did...that the one being served deserved only the best, not matter how the servant felt? It was unfair to him, and yet it wasn't. Sure, real-world stuff intrudes and sure I understand that from both sides, but when service is a hobby, the servant only serves when they feel like it. When it is a vocation, the servant serves no matter their feeling because being of service is more important than just about anything else in the servant's life.

Is what I want realistic? Probably not. Is it possible? I don't know. Do I wish and pray for it each and every day? Yes. Does that make me delusional or hopeful?