As uncomfortable as they are high, at least when you worn them for a long time. And yet they are incredibly sexy in their own twisted erotic way.
Tying off the legs to a bar so that shifting around is not possible just makes wearing them worse by the minute. If you don’t believe it, try it yourself.
In a situation like this one, there is only one thing you can do. Endure them.
Nothing in this world stresses me out more than opening up the Facebook app and seeing an array of my booty pics at the top of the screen asking me if I “wish to post pictures from camera roll” like Mark why did you ever think that was a good idea? I’m gonna fuck around one day and expose my entire self to my family.
Today was a rough one for me for some reason. I couldn’t really put a finger on it. By all appearances, I should be overjoyed. I’m just finishing up a 2-week vacation, I’m relatively healthy, I got to visit some family and friends, see some sights, spend time in nature. No, there’s definitely no excuse for this melancholic, on-the-verge-of-tears mood I’ve had most of the day.
When my Master messaged me for an afternoon check-in,, I struggled to explain myself. Finally, I think, three possible explanations arose, and realistically, it is very possibly a combination of the three that has me in this funk.
First is the ever-evil lack of sleep. I’ve spent the last two weeks sleeping somewhere besides my own bed, in a variety of conditions, and despite the fact that I’m on “vacation”, I simply haven’t slept well. Strike One.
Next, my routine, normally fairly rigid, has been quite disrupted. My Master thankfully (a at my request) has maintained some level of structure during my vacation despite the fact that I’m on a vacation with vanilla family members, but that structure has admittedly been less than our normal protocols and routines. Which I miss. A lot. Strike Two.
Add to all that the stress of the masks we wear, masks hiding our deepest fears, thoughts, emotions. A mask I’ve learned fo remove with my Master, now forcibly worn for two straight weeks, without any real reprieve. Strike Three.
My emotional well-being has struck out…
I had forgotten what an effort it is, how taxing to wear those masks, day in, and day out. The drain of having to hide my true self, playing different roles… the perfect daughter, the perfect employee, the perfect student, the best friend, the great mentor… roles that don’t fully encompass who I am, or allow me to make my inevitable mistakes.
Then, I realized not only was I tired of the masks I had worn for two solid weeks, but I was dreading the oppressive weight of wearing all the different masks that wait for me at home. Granted, I have some reprieve there, in my time with my Master, when I’m at home, etc. But nonetheless, it too was contributing to my waves of lacrymosity.
Master, ever vigilant, was quick to identify the issue. And although the source wasn’t completely clear (He saw the truth before I did), He was able to work toward a solution, nonetheless. First came instructions. He was at work, His time there is extremely limited. Simply having some structure to follow relaxed me a bit. More than I realized it would. Later, His time. Spending time together, writing together, enjoying one another in a way that we typically have… there was normalcy to that, my mask was off, I was able to just be. I relished it.
I’m thankful for days like today, days when perhaps I’m not fully myself or one hundred percent. Not because I enjoy feeling that way, but because sometimes, having that kind of time with my Master is a good reminder. D/s isn’t about kinky sex or about just the “good” times. It’s about working through rough patches together, helping and supporting one another, no matter what.
I’m incredibly thankful for my Master, who, no matter what, is patient with me, an ever-present encouragement. The structure He gives me has allowed me to thrive where before I could merely wallow. Oh and the kinky sex is fun too!
Uie's Cage 