Today officially marks the day that I reached the elusive number of 8000 views on my alt profile. What an illustrious occasion! Well, it’s not really, but I’ve been saying to Master for the past two or three months that I’m ‘nearly at 8000’ so I’m sure he’ll be happy to know that I am finally there.
I’m a funny kind of person in that respect: numbers, dates, views etc are all things that mark some sort of ‘achievement’ in my ife and I generally pay fairly careful attention to them. The ‘views counter’ on this blog is something that I check at least once a day and I find myself getting depressed when the graph starts looking like a downhill slide. It shouldn’t really matter, afterall, I’m not blogging in order to have people read what I write, I’m just blogging to get all that stuff that is in my head out of my head to give myself some breathing space.
My alt profile was one of the first things I created when I started down the path of D/s. To be exact, I’ve been a member since 4th April, 2005. That was just over a couple of years ago but soooooooo much has happened in those two years that I feel like it’s been twenty and not two. I look back over my ‘achievements’ with a certain fondness: my first and second collarings, my first caning, my first cat and single tail whippings, the 325 strokes, the piercings, my first mystery shopper, my first public ‘display’ and of course, all of that that culminated in me being broken. Part of me thinks that was a lot to ‘achieve’ before being broken and another part of me is kind of ashamed that I went down without a fight.
Just on that public thing, when I was younger I used to do this thing where when I got nervous I’d count things out on my fingers according to how many letters there were in the word until I reached a number ending in five or zero. If it didn’t fit, I’d add things until it did. I’m not sure whether that is an indication of how bizarro I am, or something else, but I know that being in public has always and still does freak me out. I feel totally insecure by myself walking down a street and I guess that is what I’d find in the ‘Jedi Cave’ if Yoda sent me in there. As a result, I’m quite a hermit really, happier at home than anywhere else. I do feel kind of eerie though, that Master knew me well enough to know that being displayed publicly would tip me right over the edge in ‘broken-ness’. Eerie, but comforting at the same time.
Master often comments that I am constantly touching him and brushing myself up against him etc. If he leaves the lounge while I’m watching something, even if it’s something I want to watch, I’ll go and find him after a few minutes. I’m not exactly sure what it is, but I need the constant reaffirmation of our relationship. I need to sense it, feel it, breathe it. Sometimes I may forget that I have a collar around my neck, but I don’t like to lose the sense that I’m a slave.The other night he said,
“You need that leash, don’t you? You need to feel it there all the time.”
That’s oh-so-very true and funnily enough, one of my favourite pastimes is counting the links.