How many ways can my anxiety count the days?

Content note for self-harm

One-day, two-day, three-day, eighty.

It seems ironic that my mental health would take a nosedive in May: Mental Health Awareness Month. During this time, I am more cognizant of possible mental health issues, reading articles, meditating, and writing about mental health more. However, as time ticks on, I am aware that I am becoming less capable of coping with the chaos of the world. Or perhaps the world is becoming more chaotic than ever before? Both statements are true.

A significant sign that I am slipping when it comes to dealing with my anxiety and depression is that my people pleasing personality becomes more prominent than usual. It becomes apparent that the need to please everyone is seeping into all that I do. The awful problem with trying to please everyone is that I never feel good enough for anyone. This is a lesson and an old demon that I thought I had put to rest.

That is the trick depression plays on its sufferers; if you have maintained a healthy mindset for a long period, it’s easy to talk yourself into believing the illusion that you are recovered or have moved past your mental illness.

In the beginning of quarantine I am hanging on, not losing too much sleep, and not slipping into the deep dark rabbit hole that depression is. I am talking to Dr. Payne and I know He has me, and He will help me. Then I hit a major bump in the road: my personal physician decides that she wants me to try a new medication for my asthma.

This medication doesn’t simply lead me to slip down into the rabbit hole of depression, it throws me there head first and I am suddenly lost in a maze of awful thoughts: “Nobody loves me, and I can’t do anything right!” Then thoughts of self-harm creep in, “Why am I here? Something sharp cutting into my arm would feel better than these feelings!”

Depression lies to you; it tells you that making people happy is the only way to be loved. It also tells you that nobody loves you. I then feel that I must hide my feelings from those around me. Depression and anxiety begin to constantly whisper in my ear that Dr. Payne and Princess care more about each other than they do about me.

That is not true, and I know it isn’t true, but there are times at 2 am when anxiety tells me I have to make things perfect, that doing so is the only way to be happy. In those moments I lose my grip on my emotional and mental wellbeing. I then fall back asleep, and when I wake up, most days I am in control of the negative thoughts.

There are moments of clarity when I can see happiness and daylight, and I talk to my partners about what is going on in my head. However, this is not easy.

As time marches along, and what the world tries to refer to as the “new normal” becomes a scary thing, I ponder what the current state of the world and its unpredictability mean for my mental health. I fear I may not make it to the end of 2020 as an emotionally stable person.

I must fight the demons, the demons of fear that tell me I am too much emotional garbage to be worthy of anyone’s love and attention.

I can tell myself that I am worthy. I can stand up tall, smile, and say that I am loved, I am worthy. But there are moments when I wonder if fear is right, and I am the one lying to myself.

As we talk about the struggles, Dr. Payne reminds me that when times are rough it is more important than ever to rely on our protocols, those things about Power Exchange that keep us grounded. I wish it were as easy as that. I find I have to remind myself that I am collared and owned, that I am no longer the person who struggles daily with being in charge of myself. I fall back on old shameful behaviors that I should know do not work for me. We have had more tension events than is normal, and my anxiety and inability to remember who I am now is often at the center of the tension.

The world is still chaotic, and Dr. Payne tries to filter the outside disorder as much as possible. As time marches on and quarantine is extended, ten-weeks, twelve-weeks, thirteen-weeks, thirty, I touch and acknowledge my protocols and daily tasks: the simple act of drink service, blessing Sir’s tea, and kneeling at His feet when I am in need of guidance. I continue to love and support Princess, and give consent daily to the person who has agreed to be my Dominant, to protect and love me: Dr. Payne, my husband, my Dom, my forever partner.

The acts of nurture, service, and love

If you have ever seen us in public and commented on my clothing, you know my standard response is, “Dr. Payne buys all my dresses!” I say it with a smile. It is a dictated protocol response, however people who know me personally know how much I love this. The phrase is attached to the act. Dr. Payne buys the dresses to be sure of a certain look, but I am the one who makes an effort to pair items together with the proper makeup for the look He loves so much. I love getting dressed up for Dr. Payne – for events, for date night, for Him. His look when I have perfectly achieved the pinup style that I adore is priceless. I feel pretty and wanted. He feels honored and proud to see His Kitten well adorned. These are balms for an old wound of feeling ugly and unwanted.

There are other aspects of my outward appearance that are not part of our Power Exchange Dynamic but are still within the form of service. This involves the other member of our group: Princess. There is no Power Exchange between Princess and myself; we have a more intimate relationship than just lovers. The things we do for each other are acts of love. Princess has become my nail artist, but this is more than just painting my nails and making them pretty. There is a sincere intimacy in the touching of hands and feet, the tender caress on my hand as she grooms my nails, and even the quick tug bringing my hand back into place when I become distracted. In these moments between us, it is just us in silence enjoying the simple touch. This is the balm for an old wound of thinking that I was not good enough to let others do anything for me.

Putting on makeup is an act of grooming and service to myself. It becomes an act of service and bonding when Princess wants to do my makeup – girl time! Even the simple act of bathing myself is service to Dr. Payne. I must care for Sir’s property.

Then there are the times one of us is not well due to some physical illness, or a chronic issue that flares up. In these moments of physical or emotional pain, we care for each other. In these moments we are reminded that we serve the Collar, and of what it means to love each other.

This is not just Power Exchange, we are family. My service to Dr. Payne is not just service; I love this man and I love to serve Him. The service of presenting Dr. Payne or Princess an evening drink is an act that brings me great joy. This is a shared act of communion.

It becomes this circle of serving each other; service does not equal submission. The acts of service become a form of healing old wounds: damage others have done to us, and damage we have done to ourselves.

When you see us in public, when you see me on social media, you will know that I am healing those around me, and I am constantly being healed.

The energy that binds

It started simply enough – I escorted our girlfriend Princess to the couch. Underneath my simple black button-up dress I wore matching black panties, bra, garter belts, and stockings. Dr. Payne had already told me how sexy I looked, and the raised eyebrow and smile from my girlfriend were all I needed to know that she felt the same way. I am energized and aroused by the knowledge that my partners find me as attractive as I feel in sexy lingerie.       

Nights for all three of us to be together can be difficult to schedule. This sometimes makes me feel anxious that there is a level of expectation for the evening that I cannot meet. All the same, the start of the evening was charged with eager anticipation. It had been a few weeks since we’d had the opportunity to share the sexual energy of all three of us together.

Just sitting close to either Dr. Payne or Princess excites me, thrills me. With the three of us together on the couch, fondling mixed with a little dirty talk created an intense passion that you could feel in the air.

“I love to watch the two of you fuck!” I said. Dr. Payne smiled and raised an eyebrow at me. Princess blushed. I sometimes find it interesting to be with someone who is outwardly shyer than I, yet inwardly far more sexual!

Dr. Payne smiled. “Really? Let’s see how much you love it,” He said, leading us to the bedroom. The sexual energy that happens when three people who deeply care about each other are in the same room is amazing. I took off my dress, but everything else remained. Stockings and garters always make me feel sexy. Dr. Payne instructed me to kneel. He slowly draped cold chain over me and around my hot body. Then He moved Princess in front of me, gave her one end of the chain, and instructed her to carefully wrap it around my neck. She tugged on it, not so hard as to hurt, but enough for me to feel it and know that I was not in control.

My pussy was sopping, and my panties were getting soaked. Dr. Payne looked over Princess’ shoulder into my eyes, as if He were holding the chain. This energy, this sexual connection that is about more than just sex is difficult to explain or put into words, but just thinking about it has me feeling sensual, hot.

In these moments with the three of us, it is my pleasure to do things to Princess that Dr. Payne instructs me to do. It is the pleasure of service mixed with my attraction to her. I eagerly helped her get comfortable by removing her dress and getting us both onto the bed.

A wicked grin crossed Dr. Payne’s face. “Lick her ass!” Oh, the immediate thrill. This is an act He knows I have enjoyed doing for Him and that I was thrilled at even the idea of doing to Princess. How sweet this was, any sexual gratification I give Princess is exciting, but I am especially fond of the new experiences. It does not hurt that the sounds she makes when she is sexually aroused are amazing.

After a few moments of this I was eager to get to her pussy. I licked every enjoyable fold of Princess’ perfectly shaved girly bit. Her taste is so very luscious and intoxicating; I adore the sounds and the simple act of making her moan as much as I love her taste.

Then it was her turn to eat my pussy. Princess is amazingly in tune with how to make me squirm for her. Dr. Payne licked my nipples. My nipples are amazingly sensitive, and I can orgasm from having them licked alone, so having my pussy and nipples ravaged at the same time was like no other sensation I had experienced before. My orgasm felt like electricity was surging in arcs throughout the room. I squirted in Princess’ mouth; this makes her giggle, which in turn does amazing things to the orgasm. The puddle I left was substantial.

Time became a blur after these moments of intense orgasm. I remember tongues and squirting pussy juice, both mine and Princess’. I can recall the sensation of Dr. Payne lightly biting my nipple and the tingly feeling that goes down my body when He does this. I remember my girlfriend and I worshipping Dr. Payne’s cock – licking, sucking, and caressing.

I have an image in my head of Dr. Payne biting Princess’ inner thigh and the look of bliss on her face. I also remember Him biting my butt, and the bruise that later formed. The act of being bitten is something I enjoy as an afterthought, but not necessarily in the moment.

The final catalyst for shared orgasmic bliss was when I sat on Princess’ face while she ate me out and Dr. Payne fucked her. This shared intense moment with both of my partners is always so wonderfully sensual. I love these moments of perfect symmetry.

In the end we simply laid in the drenched sheets, all smiling at each other. I felt as sexy completely naked and sated as I did when the evening began. The simple pleasure of each other’s company in this post-orgasmic haze was enough to lull us to sleep.

It hurts

Photo by Bianca Salgado from Pexels

Today it hurts

My mental illness tries to own me

The anxiety throws me into the undertow

The depression drags me under

I worry if Sir will see me struggling and pull me out

Will He notice or will I quietly slip away

Then He takes my hand

He grabs my collar

He looks into my eyes

He says, “come back to me”

I remember who owns me

And the hurt is eased

The cold metal plug

The sensation, and the emotional thoughts. It was sexy because nobody but Dr. Payne knew that I had it there, reminding me of its presence every time I shifted or moved. This was going to be an interesting day.

The feeling of cold metal on my bare skin is hard to describe. It’s like ice, but different; like the sting of a whip, but different. It is my kink; just the thought of cold metal on my skin makes my panties wet.

Dr. Payne gave me a simple order; “Pick a day, any day, and wear this to work, all day. You may not remove it until you get home.” He stood there holding the shiny silver princess plug with the pink jewel on the end.

Thankfully, I was not given this task on a Friday evening. My pussy was already wet.  I could not wait. I was immediately making plans to do this the next day.

The next morning as I went about my normal morning activities, I kept reminding myself, “Don’t forget the princess plug! Don’t forget the princess plug.”

It was the last thing I did before leaving for work. The cold metal sensation as it entered my ass was amazing. The cold spread through my body. My commute was an adventure of sensations produced by every tiny bump on the road.

As I went to start my day, there was the thrill of hiding something under my panties that nobody was aware of. I felt so sneaky and dirty. My coworkers had no idea.  I tried to concentrate on actual work, but this metal orb lodged in my ass was terribly distracting.  I spent more time in the ladies room that day than normal:

  • I took a picture to send to Dr. Payne.
  • I masturbated to several orgasms as quietly as I could.

More often than not I just played with the jewel to feel the sensations of it moving around. Sometimes a fellow employee would stop by my desk to chat, but I couldn’t pay any attention to what they were saying. I wanted to play with it some more.

As time went on the pleasure and excitement faded. There was something I hadn’t considered at the beginning of this little adventure. My body temperature was heating up the plug.

It did not help that it was a hot summer day. I texted Dr. Payne to inform him that I was becoming uncomfortable.

The response on my phone was quick, “If you take it out, I’ll have to punish you.”

“Sadist.” I texted.

A smiling devil emoji was the final response.

The last couple of hours at work were uncomfortable to put it lightly. The ride home was still an adventure of sensations, but they were quite different sensations.

I walked in the house and headed straight for the bathroom. It had become unbearably hot. I removed the offending hot object. As I was preparing to clean it and put it away, Dr. Payne came into the bathroom to watch me. He smiled wickedly.

The thought of the dirty kinky thing beneath my clothes that my coworkers were unaware of still thrills me. Next time, perhaps an overnight spent in the freezer would be wise. Maybe I will try this in winter.