I have written a book called "M/s for the Rest of Us" it is available for purchase here: http://www.lulu.com/shop/k-e-enzweiler/ms-for-the-rest-of-us/paperback/product-22151343.html
Or on Amazon: http://www.amazon.com/Rest-Us-K-E-Enzweiler/dp/1329062213/ref=sr_1_2?s=books&ie=UTF8&qid=1432825657&sr=1-2&keywords=m%2Fs+for+the+rest+of+us
I am the founder of the Albuquerque Masters Group. We meet once every other month. The group is open to all who wish to explore their Mastery, slavery, or Dominance and submission. Please contact me here or at my email : Bigdykebear@yahoo.com for more information! The meetings are free to all who wish to attend!
If you are interested in power munches, skills workshops or play parties in the Albuquerque area please contact the 20 year organization of AEL at:
If you are interested in active online community please find:
Group names for the Albuquerque Community Include:
Land Of Enchantment Fetlifers
Albuquerque Master/slave forum
New Mexico Leather League: Leather/Kink/Fetish and More
Friday, November 28, 2014
First off I blame my slave- ever since she had been experimenting with bath bombs, cookies, and stuff that fizzes and explodes into these amazing smells and colors in water I have not been able to take a normal bath. I don’t even want to any more!!!
OK that being said.
Last week was the Albuquerque Masters Group meeting, it went really well, very intense. There was a lot discussed, and this time instead of “questions in the hat” I did more of a leaded discussion. It was really deep and thought provoking. I am grateful to all that attended for stretching my own ideas and giving me new things to ponder.
One of the ideas that was brought forth was that Masters control slaves for a sense of safety. It was a huge idea for me- really interesting in its perspective.
The concept is that Masters that need to micromanage everything that the slave does, says, and thinks are more driven by their innate sense of feeling unsafe then they are driven by feeling a sense of control.
I have always wondered about Masters that micromanage, since I am not one of them. As that isn’t how I connect to my sense of power. But micromanagement is popular among Masters and although I figured that is how they connect with their sense of power, it never occurred to me that it is also how they connect to their sense of safety.
But it makes perfect sense-
The need to feel that they have absolute control over something, the need to not deal with who they are because they “have to/get to” put all of their energy in dealing with something outside of themselves. They don’t have to think about their own lives, accountability, even long term decisions- because they have to deal in the right here and now with their slave. Moment by moment.
Now I am talking in exaggerated terms here- I am not saying that all Masters that micromanage do it because they can’t deal with their own self. I am saying that when someone is constantly training, overseeing, managing, correcting, and focusing on what another is doing- it takes the pressure off of the overseer when it comes to doing a self assessment.
“I can’t think about (fill in the blank here) because that slave is looking to send out an email and I WILL see if they get to send it.”
Exaggerated but I think there is some truth there.
So as far as how that ties into a feelings of safety- the Master doesn’t have to feel fear, insecurity, or discomfort because nothing is about them. It all gets diverted to the slave. The emotional concentration is on what the slave is doing- so the Master doesn’t have to recognize what is going on in their own emotional lives.
Think of it like this- you are feeling bitchy- you don’t know why- so you pick a fight in your relationship to feel better (or relieve some steam) instead of dealing with why your feeling bitchy. That way the feeling of discomfort gets to become someone else’s fault.
Master woke up feeling insecure- find something that the slave did wrong, of just make it up. Then it gets to be about the Master getting emotional relief because of what the slave did or didn’t do instead of the Master dealing with how they feel.
Feeling unaccomplished and lost- no worries there- pick out the slaves clothes, watch how many drops of salt they put in your eggs, and not allow them to pee when they ask. Suddenly the focus is on what the slave is doing and not how the Master is feeling.
Now I know that I am going out of the box here- really exaggerating the point- but I do believe that there is some kernel of reality there.
Or at the very least, something to think about-
When a Masters sense of empowerment comes from avoidance. Huh.
My brain hurts…..
Friday, November 21, 2014
My slave calls it “ripping off the band aid” it is when I am dead set against taking care of myself or pampering myself and she bulldozes right through me to do what is best.
Before you get all smug or up in arms about topping from below, pulling rank, being insubordinate, or refusing to obey- just remove the stick from your ass and listen:
When I started school I knew that I needed three ring binders, money was a little tight because we had just moved and so I was doing what I could to stay organized. We were at the store and I was looking at the binders- I needed three of them- and she said “Master, you need these.” And I said “No, we cant really afford them.”
At that point she stepped forward and said “Come on- rip off the band aid, how many do you need?”
I tried to say no but she was already putting them into the cart- and she was right- I needed them.
This happened again just recently. After we moved into the new house the bathroom needed to be re done. So I set her on it. I didn’t want to have anything to do with the decision making. I just wanted it handled, and boy did she. We made payments for a while and this week they are gutting the bathroom and re doing it. Within budget and paid up front, becasue that is how she knows I need things to be handled.
she calls it phase one. I stopped asking how many other phases there are because as she runs into new ideas that changes.
The point is that the other day we were at the store and I saw it. Batman bathroom stuff! The soap dispenser was AMAZING, and the shower curtain rings! EPIC! So we went to buy it and---
WHOOPS!! We ran out of money and had to put it back!!!
Ultimately I was OK with that- we had enough to get through for the week, but Batman would have to wait.
So when we went back to the store a week later and it was still there- I was SHOCKED! I really wanted them. I knew it would make us short on money so I said no. And again she stepped right up and said “Off with the band aid!” and she put the Goodies in the cart!
It is rough when she does those things. I get agitated, but I know that she is right. The honest feeling is that I feel so cared for. Like she sees past my words and right in to my heart.
I feel that this is a good example of one of the ways that people would say- it is not her place to override my decisions. You are the Master- AREN'T you?
But isn’t the heart of service to care for and provide for the Master?
Where then does one stop and the other begin? Where does service over ride servitude?
Some of that is easy- when the Master is asking for something illegal that puts the slave at risk, when the Master is inebriated or under the influence, when the Master is under extreme duress.
OK I get that part- but what about the subtlety of the concept that is less extreme and more - gray? Those “in between” parts where the majority of life is lived, where the details lay.
Is the slave disobedient if they push the Master to drink on a hot day when the Master isn’t thirsty?
Is the slave disobedient if they make a meal that is appropriate for the Masters disease process, but the Master wants what they shouldn’t have?
Is the slave disobedient if they are told to buy clothes but know the rent is over due and pay the rent instead?
Where does the line cross from service and into disobedience?
This is something that every Master has to answer for themselves- and I already know my answer:
Here it is!
BATMAN MANIA!!!! Will go up as soon as they are done with the renovation!
My backpack and school binders complete with colored inserts.
I am so LUCKY to have the service of my heart and not just my words!
Friday, November 14, 2014
It has been a emotional week, my slave re started the Betties and she had their first meeting in over a year. We received our final check in the foreclosure so now the old house is behind us and in five years we are going to be able to get a mortgage and come off of the real estate contract. I am caught up on homework for the week. I have been approved to CNM for my last semester and am waiting to hear back about financial aid. The bills are paid, the horses are eating and we have food and heat.
I am reminded of all of our multiple blessings not just because I am grateful for them, and give thanks, but because I received a call from my Mom a few weeks back. I followed up with her this week. My sister is in trouble of the legal kind. Not usual for our family- we tend to err on the side of not going to jail. The sad thing is that she is in trouble because she can’t see that the only way out is to change.
Part of this is her mental illness- but part of this is the old fashioned ghosts that follow us all- the universal human experience of “it will get better. It will change. I can do this. I CAN MAKE THIS BETER. If I am Better IT WILL BE DIFFERENT.”
How many of us have stayed in relationships far too long, tolerated abuse, stayed in jobs, living arrangements, activities, or groups way beyond what was healthy for us because we needed to see it for what we wanted it to be instead of what it really was.
We kept the veil of illusion over the starkness of the reality because seeing what was real was to painful, to dis-empowering, to scary, to unthinkable.
The need for the illusion is so powerful that everything else falls by the wayside. Self care, dreams, goals, desires- it is as if the illusion is an addiction, and it draws our very lives from us.
I know a little of what I am talking about here. My first marriage lasted 4.5 years. I was dedicated to the illusion that we could make it work.
During that time I continued to go to school (which I attribute only to us not living together) but I gave up horses, my sense of safety, my sense of self, my ability to define my own needs and desires, and my ability to tell right from wrong. I believed so strongly in her that when she would lie, steal, or otherwise “press the boundaries of the law”I would justify it, ignore it, or refuse to believe that it had happened. Even when it did happen right in front of my own eyes and ears. I really needed to believe that I couldn’t possibly be married to someone that would do those things. The illusion of her, of us, was so much more important than the reality. I did everything that I could to protect that. In the end no one could make me see the reality- I had to see it for myself.
When I had moved on in life and my slave and I bought our first house we stayed for four years because of the illusion of being able to make it work. The thought that I had just made that big of a mistake was unthinkable. That I had bought a house that couldn't support us and I couldn't afford,it was a rollercoaster that I was strapped into by my own need to believe that there was no way I could have been that stupid. I thought I could do whatever it took to salvage it. In the process I gave up my degree, the goal of having children, and my retirement was sucked dangerously dry. I had to believe that the illusion was real because the other was beyond all comprehension.
And then it happens, the place of transition where decisions need to be made, the relationship reaches critical mass, the house is not longer viable, the job, living situation, the place where you put in your extra time- it cracks and crumbles.
It does so in a way that even if you try to catch it, the ashes cling to your fingers as the bricks fall. It is addiction, the place of relapse or the place of moving on, and no matter what decision is made - the person, place, thing, and you are never the same.
And then sometime after it is all said and done- sometimes weeks, months, years- sometimes when it is all passed- you look back and wonder- was that me?
My mother used to say- the one thing that you can always guarantee is that “it” will change.
My sister will never be able to see that by choosing not to change it will not get better.
I am not saying that I am better then her or smarter or anything like that. I am saying that I was lucky that my illusion revealed itself before we were homeless or worse.
We all carry illusions, we need them to make our lives work. But there is that point where the illusion steals the you from you. Where the illusion becomes so deeply engrained that it deceives you into thinking that it is the reality.
All the while something is gnawing at you from the inside out- that little voice in your head, that small flame of the self or of doubt that shows itself in between illusions. It is there. Waiting.
I think that what I am trying to say is that change hurts deep, it is terrifying, it is sometimes unthinkable-
-- still the power of change marches on.
Embrace it if you can.
And if you can’t- just know that you are not alone. Your feelings of fear, anger, terror, hopelessness and dis empowerment they are in all of us at one time or another. And yes- they will change.