Silence is Golden

Meaning

A proverbial saying, often used in circumstances where it is thought that saying nothing is preferable to speaking.
As with many proverbs, the origin of this phrase is obscured by the mists of time. "Silence is the element in which great things fashion themselves together; that at length they may emerge, full-formed and majestic, into the daylight of Life, which they are thenceforth to rule. A gag is usually a device designed to prevent speech, often as a restraint device to stop the subject from calling for help. This is usually done by blocking the mouth partially or completely, or attempting to prevent the tongue from moving in the normal patterns of speech. People wear a gag for a variety of reasons. Some people derive "Erotic pleasure" from a gag, either in a submissive or dominant role. When combined with other physical restraints, the wearing of a gag can increase the wearer's sense of helplessness. For me personally a "quiet" command is more often than not enough.

Contract

I read in two separate blogs today that no court in any land, legal jurisdiction would ever consider any slave contract, legal and binding and I’m thinking duh, no but who said anything about any legal jurisdiction being important surely the only people who matter within a slave contract are the Master/ Mistress and the slave.
My/Our contract is binding between Master and i, no one else matters. Whilst creating a sources of stability within our own unique power exchange arrangements, which was why it was written, it was never meant for Master to hold me legally to anything i might have agree to at the time but rather for me to hold myself to, the commitment i made, very much like my marriage vows for as long as i wish to be held by them, some might say that not very slave like, maybe not but it’s realistic in a modern world.
slavery as we all know is not in the greater scheme of thing an acceptable practise in the modern world, but on our one to one level if i want to live that way, who’s to say i can’t. To imagine i or any intelligent human being can be held by a piece of paper is laughable and really isn’t worth debating.
Submission to a Master for every slave is unique, what i as a slave find acceptable in our arrangement another slave may not and visa versa. The agreement to a, b , c is a very personal thing and if each M&s feel a need to put it in writing then that is for then , who needs judge Judy to agree, approve, certainly not us.
My slave contract

It aint what you do (its the way that you do it)

How many times have we re organized a planned play session, not attended a function because kids were at home on that day, for whatever reason, just was not going to happen and still 8 years on, nothing change, we still give up on our private times because one kids or the other (no longer babies 16-23) decided not to go where it had previously been planned they would go for one night. Now we pay for a hotel room on any occasion we can think of to get some along time
So! There is really nothing going on the M/s front. It seem to function quietly in the background, pretty much without thinking after all this time, we know what is expected of the other, which is cool, i guess. I’m getting better at separating that from the kink of s-M, understanding that one does not rely on the other, and that i really can function decently without being beaten. Though there is no question that i function better with the occasional spanking. Just sayin’.

Master and i talked about this and agree that with age and disability and both kids back in the house, kink, s-M, sex blah kind of goes out the window pretty much, such is life; the one night alone we have had in the last 6 months since no1 daughter returned home from uni. was pretty much “ a let’s just be together”, the kink wasn’t as important as just being alone for once. We have both just had birthdays and another year passes, and our 60’s fast approach the talk is of the future, the inevitable and how we each view where we see it taking us, wherever together for as long as the road winds on ahead of us. He will always be Sir, Master, i will always be slave, it’s who we are, and that will never change, ever

Blah Blah

i'm happy. i really am. And it's a strange sensation,i still second-guess myself when i say something stupid; automatically assuming He's going to knock me down a notch for it. Instead, he tends to laugh and say something equally ridiculous or extremely smart. Or he just leans over and kisses me. Tells me He loves me.

The dynamic between us is something unique. i am so exceedingly comfortable being me, however i am which doesn't for a moment compromise how wanted i feel. In fact, i feel more consistently wanted and worthwhile than i have in my entire life, even though i am probably less , useful, skin deep beautiful, fit blah blah and so on and so forth, it matters not for the person who is the essence of me is loved, wanted, needed, and that makes all the blah, irrelevant.

live to serve

• If someone had told me few year ago that i could become completely, utterly exhausted just sitting in front of the computer for 9 hours, I’d have laughed
• If someone had told me i would actually BE sitting in front of the computer, barely moving, for nine hours, brain spinning madly I’d have laughed even harder.
• Yet here i find myself and will most happily defend my position against all and any boarders.
• i work, i will also defend that status too, because what i put in each day is as much as any other person who works, albeit mine is voluntary, i supply a service, it’s what i do and who i am
• Work and live to serve others, to leave the world a little better than you found it and garner for yourself as much peace of mind as you can. This is happiness.
David Sarnoff

Abbey Road~The End~

I have completely given up trying to figure out what the hell attracts people to this blog and why. However, since lately so many visitors seem to be dropping in it must have something
.And so it goes. July already, spinning quickly into August and before we know it December Christmas and another year end.
Meanwhile, I'm trying to stay positive and make plans for my summer.

I just turned 55 a few weeks ago. In this past year, my life has certainly changed in ways, and stayed much the same in others. I've seen my family remain close while undergoing individual trials and tribulations; I've gained new friends while watching others drift out of my life; and I've tried adding new and exciting activities to the mix.

But guess what? Maybe I'm not much wiser, because what i wrote a year ago (Happy Birthday to me, June. 30 2009) still basically holds true, so I'm just going to repeat it here:
Every day of my life has led me to this exact place and time, just as it should be. The true measure of success is how many loved ones you gather, not how much wealth. You get what you give. And in the end, the love you take is equal to the love you make (credit: The Beatles). Lennon misquoted the line slightly; the actual words are, "And, in the end, the love you take/ Is equal to the love you make." ...
The pure love that you generate towards others comes back to you in equal measure. At the end of your life, the purity of your mind as reflected in the selfless love that you have generated in the past, attracts the corresponding positive forces, which help support you, Here's to the next part of the journey ...

"What is this guy thinking!"

How many times have you wondered, "What is this guy thinking!" If you want to get into a man's heart, you have to start by getting into his head. The problem is many men have a hard time being open about their thoughts and feelings.
According to Wiki:-Armed with the following five techniques, a man can feel more comfortable opening up to you, so you can develop better communication with him and, ultimately, enjoy a better relationship.
1 Let him know you care about what he is saying
2. Be nonjudgmental.
3. Don't use the word "why
4. Never say, "We need to talk."
5. Learn how to really listen.

As slave i don’t try to figure out what Master is thinking, i never try to "guess" what He want because He will tell me what He want, one way or another.i never try and look for His motives behind any order because if He want me to know, He will make sure i know.
End of story.
It’s as simple as that for me., i'll ignore the 5 steps, who needs them ?

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not.

He Loves Me, He Loves Me Not (originally effeuiller la marguerite in French) is a game of French origin, in which one person seeks to determine whether the object of their affection returns that affection or not.

A person playing the game alternately speaks the phrases "He (or she) loves me," and "He loves me not," while picking one petal off a flower (usually an oxeye daisy) for each phrase. The phrase they speak on picking off the last petal supposedly represents the truth between the object of their affection loving them or not. The player typically is motivated by attraction to the person they're speaking of while reciting the phrases. They may seek to reaffirm a pre-existing belief, or act out of whimsy.

The pronoun He, with a universally capitalized H, is often used to refer to a Higher being.

my He, my Sir

He is intelligent. i like having discussions with him. i enjoy his perspective and that he teaches me new things!

He has an amazing amount of patience!

He is a very generous man. He gives so much.

He takes care of me when i am sick. When i am tired he always knows what best

I feel at times he does things for a reason but i just can't figure out why.

My list could go on and on. i just feel very privileged to be owned by Him and serve Him! i love YOU, Master!

When I Am an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple.

It's a declaration of defiance, vividly and clearly expressed. Appealing to the rebel in all of us as we secretly learn to throw of the shackles of propriety and enjoy the freedom of cocking a hoot at the rest of the world.
The poem tells of a respectable middle-aged woman, as she indulges in her fantasy of a grabby old crone with her outrageous clothes and dotty behaviour.As follows :-

Warning - When I Am an Old Woman I Shall Wear Purple.
By Jenny Joseph

When I am an old woman, I shall wear purple

with a red hat that doesn't go, and doesn't suit me.

And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves

and satin candles, and say we've no money for butter.

I shall sit down on the pavement when I am tired

and gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells

and run my stick along the public railings

and make up for the sobriety of my youth.

I shall go out in my slippers in the rain

and pick the flowers in other people's gardens

and learn to spit.



You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat

and eat three pounds of sausages at a go

or only bread and pickles for a week

and hoard pens and pencils and things in boxes.



But now we must have clothes that keep us dry

and pay our rent and not swear in the street

and set a good example for the children.

We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?

So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised

When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.